The Art of
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75<br />
A Nazi<br />
who secretly slipped a slice<br />
<strong>of</strong> bread – perishable – to a Ghetto Jew.<br />
<strong>The</strong> SS Guard who turned a blind eye.<br />
<strong>The</strong> little blond working girl in Magdeburg –<br />
Fortress <strong>of</strong> maidenhood – who hid<br />
bread with butter behind the sleeping grinding wheel<br />
for the cute hungry-boy on the early shift.<br />
Aha! <strong>The</strong> crooked old Latvian spinster<br />
who one day – on Frostbite-Freedom Boulevard – dropped<br />
a white bun on the park bench and<br />
hobbled <strong>of</strong>f.<br />
(She’d brought it, really? just for me.)<br />
<strong>The</strong>y’re all way more important than any<br />
fat<br />
man on a soap-box<br />
spouting good words.<br />
But I don’t give a penny to the homeless (outcast).<br />
BORIS LURIE, FEBRUARY 7, 1999<br />
<strong>The</strong> old man says: “please.”<br />
<strong>The</strong> young man says: “gimme!”<br />
<strong>The</strong> virgin still pretty<br />
is in love with her knees.<br />
<strong>The</strong> lady – a bit older<br />
glows in good light.<br />
But if fresh beauty passes<br />
it’s good light good night.<br />
Back to verse one.<br />
BORIS LURIE, OCTOBER 14, 1999
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