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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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