Poems by Amanda Merrill

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by Amanda Merrill

From Canary August/September 2009

Death lurks in fertile earth,
water reflects secrets in green,
sun hides casualties of rain,
jars of last year's peaches
produce tumors under flesh.

Peel off metal in your mouth.
Scarf around your neck.
Scrub your skin until it's raw.
Fear irradiated wine.

Whispers tell half truths
as marchers wave to crowds.
Little sterile soldiers play
in foamy gutters,
hear the thud
of dead birds
dropping from the sky.

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