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Friday, September 22, 2017


Thalassemia

Let’s never think about it
or cross that river
when we run from it
just because it’s a good place to hide
in the mist drifting sideways.

For years now, we’ve evacuated
for all we were worth.
It’s like we’ve been struggling
outside the frame of our own picture.
It’s exhausting to say the least
& a fat lot of good it’s done us.
A crow in the street
has had more to say about it all
than we ever did.

Still, it’s no cross to bear;
the underside of all things
held us fast, thank god, like bombs on a mission.
We were clowns then, but the championship
was still within our grasp.

Sometimes they do come back
like pandas, she promised,
the bamboo so sweet & green.
Hello, again.
It’s so quiet tonight;
you don’t even realize you’re been waiting
all these years to hear them say it.

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