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I
AM A SWEATED INDUSTRY
I
am a sweated industry.
My
name is Levi, Das or Krill.
I
air myself on balcony steps
often
amusing, guying my soul morosely
among
birdcages and drying slips.
In
my shops you can buy teapots, glasses,
smoked
salmon, sesame and lard.
The
Jalalabad will sell you sweets
if
you can get past all the schmutter.
Joint
synagogue and Moslem meat
are
chained to an iron bollard.
Fear
and tradition exact persistence
in
a fetor of dark exchanges.
I
am always being washed ashore
and
they call me an invasion.
Alan
Marshfield
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