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WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
My history is like an ill-sewn quilt, odd piecesof parents stitched looselytogether, always ready to comeapart, fade or be thrown away. Perhaps my history ismore like a belovedold pair of jeans, holesappear and are patched,patches wear out and arereplaced, or the hole isjust left, as if it weresomehow a fashion statement. There is little normalwhen…
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IN MY BAG
I carry my pastin a monk’s bagthat rests on my shoulder. In it you will findmy history, or bitsof it, names I havebeen given, given up,memories of childhood,pictures of my parentswho I never knew,aged in my mind fromthe photos in yearbooks,all that I have of them.. I still have roomin my bag, perhapsmore room than…
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LANDING
She sends us a map showing on which tribe’s land we are now living. This is not something we have thought about, not something we want to think about, for that would demand that we are the usurpers, the horde whose pogrom was ultimately successful, and that is a face that refuse to see in…
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HISTORY
We only see the present as history,by day history is a matter of minutes,by night of seconds, years or centuries. There is no future to be seen, onlyimagined, the mind writing a storythat can never be read, never told. It is only when we close the eyesthat the present truly exists,independent of the past, free…
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WE ARE THE PEOPLE
We are the people, Who heard the glass breakingthat night as we huddled at home, Who inhaled the smokeof the Holy books as they burned, Who tried to flee but hadnowhere to go, always turned away, Who visited cosmetic doctorsto reshape our noses to look like the others Who adopted names to helperase a potentially…
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BACK LOOKING
On the worst day, of the worstweek, or even just a day, like mostthat did not go the way you want,step outside at night if the sky is clearand stare upwards at the universe. Realize that you are seeingmore than a monumental collectionof celestial bodies, that you areexperiencing so much history,and moments older thanmankind itself,…



