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本帖最后由 雷克 于 2009-12-23 20:58 编辑
TRANSFORMATION
Faith**s, we have come here
this morning on empty stomachs
and hearts.
I open my hands to quiet
their stupid pleading, but
they begin to drip
onto the stones.
A woman beside me slips
on those same stones, striking
her head in the Grotto.
Behind me my love with the camera
records it all on color film down
to the finest detail.
But see!
The woman groans, rises slowly
shaking her head: she b**ses
those very stones while we escape
through a side door.
Later we play the entire film again and
again. I see the woman keep falling
and getting up, falling and
getting up, Arabs evil-eyeing
the camera. I see myself striking
one pose after the other.
Lord, I tell you
I am without purpose here
in the Holy Land.
My hands grieve in this
Bright sunlight.
They walk back and forth along
the Dead Sea shore
with a thirty-year-old man.
Come, Lord. Shrive me.
Too late I hear the film running,
taking it all down.
I look into the camera.
My grin turns to salt. Salt
where I stand.
THREAT
Today a woman signaled me in Hebrew.
Then she pulled out her hair, swallowed it
and disappeared. When I returned home,
shaken, three carts stood by the door with
fingernails showing through the sacks of grain. |
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