I am here

I am a walker of worlds –
I transport myself to the past
The ground under my feet
is not the ground that was before
The memories are held in the hand, gently
The screams and laughter of an old pier
That is not there, anymore
They tore that pier down
after watching it burn in an unholy blaze
similar to the flames that engulfed Europe
in W.W.II
old vets, they won’t talk about it –
let someone else do it –
or read a book – there are lots of books
How they killed and killed and killed –
6 million Jews, gypsies, handicapped, religious, children
They all had to go —
They were all related to each other
They were indeed the Chosen People
We miss you —
We can’t comprehend it –
but our best customers are Israeli –
new bombs and guns and ammos –
excuse me – fresh graves to dig.

– Mary Getlein

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