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made it out before the Nazis finished
what the pogroms left behind.
The woman at the next table
wants me to know that women in Afghanistan
can’t smoke. I tell her
we already deposed that government.
See, Isaiah says.
The Propers had strategy. Every year,
Grandma Ruth sent the surplus
of a slim wallet to Poland, every year
until 1939.
America rolled over and slept
until 1941.
Isaiah says he wanted
to be infantry, but
the recruitment officer
said he scored too high
for cannon fodder.
In the paper,
an officer says
he had to teargas
us protestors
to calm us down.
I can still smell it
burning my eyes
like a hot shower.
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Another Isaiah once asked G-d,
What’s the plumb line for?
G-d said, You’re
the plumb line. Stand up straight—
the ground may be crooked.
America, I carried
the last Krosinsky
nine months and you
can’t
have him.
Isaiah’s gone tomorrow.
I kiss his shiny new head
goodbye.
4-1-2003
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