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Treblinka Re-opened (Free verse) by Caducus

Hocked from Aryan mouths murals of anger hit stars faster than a David sling. Chariots of fingers pointed to a yellow star, God’s Aryan eye blind to busy chimneys this witnessing cataract shines on pale valleys silvering the palms of Judas seed. Treblinka minutes are told by graves, big hands little hands set by nazi hands, time differences are wrists. Beneath foreign soil limbs lay like swath stickers in a broth of Jews. Above them are bouquets next to spray paint on granite saying ‘Scum fucking Jews’ by a sward of lit candles.

Blue Magpie 20-Jun-05/10:47 PM
I find the constant changing of tenses, from present to past and back again rather strange and I do not see how it helps the poem.




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