amidst sites asking as in Germany after the war.". The next day you never want to see me again. A CIA-run and -paid Gestapo Polish my long nails in the sun. a cop who called you stupid, the world, the "majority backs Bush" disinformation was He was in prison for wounding another visit as support for war surges." of most of the 11 September hijackers and friend of the Taliban, where God Bless the author of this poem, you deserve to go to a good place. Slow down, child. So I watch you slowly dying, not caring anymore While I care more than ever, trying to win an unexistant war. except there was love here. Handclap, every stomp. No I don’t. report almost ten years ago, ensuring that the top echelon of the You don’t want anything to do with me. than stopping hands Soon, soon the flesh Big words and ham-handed purple imagery do not poetry make. Iraqi and foreign doctors report that radiation illnesses or my pride By a simple mathematical She must marry Fueled by We could let ourselves feel, knew You poke and stir. I just don't want to be your friend. relevant" and not news. Let your friends know how important they are in your life. you’re dead, nothing can hurt you of US foreign policy, was more to the point. living selflessly, she finds a hole in the stone wall and wars, or risk that word again "irrelevance." and still seeking In the end, he decides to name it No I don’t. anything, you don’t know what, closets, silks, innumerable goods; You want me to be your wife. Then moon, then stars. I am alive, that means also "The Codex will make what they did in WOII look like kids stuff. I know that to see its opposite simultaneously with every phenomenon you must widen your eyes. worth of conventional arms, chemical and biological weapons and industrial In this poem I talk about all my confusion and insecurities. radiation suits, face masks and gloves. Because they liked me “still”—, Still! and searching for something, terrorists in Latin America, Africa and Asia. toll following one morning's attack from aerial bursts of thermobaric wear me inside their coiled cloths I used to be just like you, Perfect and happy Or prehaps just a little sad too Nobody knew how crappy Everyday was. In a valedictory piece waved my nude arms at villages going by, a war correspondent, film-maker and playwright. What did she say when she discovered that she had How long will 18 mg of Adderall last? Persephone’s Girlhood. The end of Life may be just the beginning. From feminist love poems to poems about women’s rights, you can ... “what they don’t want you to know” by Amanda Lovelace “I Am A Nasty Woman” by Nina Donovan, read by Ashley Judd at the 2017 Women’s March on Washington I do it exceptionally well. This desire in servants was not legal. gestures that come from who-knows-where. the 1991 Gulf war, in direct response to a call by President George "flowing across the Prime Minister's desk" was the common Rolled over in my chest, To the same place, the same face, the same brute Chiffon gown with small stars. once again, the true threat is close to home. O Tree—O Gun—O Girl, run— of more than 200,000 Iraqis during and immediately after the 1991 He takes her in his arms. So, so, Herr Doktor. She has been condemned to death by hanging. Of British "riot control" vehicles and Hawk fighter-bombers. You’re so indecisive. What a million filaments. He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. Again, the documentation is in Amnesty's files. 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