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By Victor Schwartzman, on 20-04-2007 21:30

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Published in : OW! Site Content, Agit Prop 101


Lyn Lifshin is the first contributor to the Agit Prop 101 series.  She is arguably the most famous and/or one of the most famous alternative poets around--and not because of advertising or hype, but  because of word of mouth.  She needs no introduction--nor does Hiroshima, the subject of her poem, below.


BLACK RAIN, HIROSHIMA

 

It was as if we

were thrown into

a smelting furnace.

My friend had skin

hanging down like

the meltings of a

candle. Many ran

to the cool of any

water they could

find, hurled them

selves into sewers

or headed for the

River Ota that

soon was thick with

the dead and dying.

Some died on the

river bank, their

heads in the water

having used their

last surge of earthly

energy for a drink

 

*

 

Hiromu Morishiti found

her father later that

day lying in a grassy

field. He’d been on

a street car near

downtown, on his

way to work. She

cremated him in

her garden that

night, his eyes

like those grilled

fish. Others slept on

Hijiama Hill, looked

down on the place that

once was their city,

lay calling for

mothers, calling

for children, calling

for water then not

calling at all


For three more great Agit Prop poems by Lyn, read more!



Three More Poems by Lyn Lifshin

Veterans and how they are treated, Israel and the Holocaust, and War--all suitable subjects for the Agit Prop 101 page.

 

IN THE VA HOSPITAL

You wouldn’t believe

the jokes, we were

all glad to get

there and not in a

body bag, at least we

could sing and ogle

blondes, those of us

with eyes still and

lips that could move.

I’d have been out

sooner than 12 months

if it wasn’t for the

skin grafts. No one

felt funny because

nobody had everything

they’d been born with.

Even the quadriplegics

would go on about girls.

Even in the copters

with blood filling the

cockpit, matting

hair, the first thing

those who could talk

whimpered or moaned

was “Hey, mate, do I

still have my balls?”


 

I REMEMBER HAIFA BEING LOVELY BUT

 there were snakes in the

tent. My mother was

strong but she never

slept, was afraid of

dreaming. In Auschwitz

there was a numbness,

lull of just staying

alive. Her two babies

gassed before her, Dr.

Mengele, you know who

he is? She kept her

young sister alive

only to have her die

in her arms the night

of liberation. My mother

is big boned, but she

weighed under 70 lbs.

It was hot, I thought

the snakes lovely. No

drugs in Israel, no

food. I got pneumonia,

my mother knocked the

doctor to the floor

when they refused,

said I lost two in

the camp and if this

one dies I’ll kill

myself in front of

you. I thought that

once you became a

mother, blue numbers

appeared, mysteriously,

tattooed on your arm


 

WAR

the woman is

amazed not

that the watch

store is

open but that

anyone cares

about the time,

or knows it.

Every part of

her an aide, a

scout sent

out to listen,

to bring back

news to empty

rooms where

people who

hoped it would

be over are

no longer

 

For more poetry by Lyn, please check out www.lynlifshin.com!

Last update : 22-04-2007 12:18

   
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By: rob taylor (Guest) on 21-04-2007 00:30

...

By: rob taylor (Guest IP 64.59.144.21) on 21-04-2007 00:30

great great great

 

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By: Marissa Ranello (Guest) on 22-04-2007 17:22

...

By: Marissa Ranello (Guest IP 142.165.230.149) on 22-04-2007 17:22

Awesome poems Lyn!

 

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Incredible

By: Eric D (Guest) on 23-04-2007 08:08

Incredible

By: Eric D (Guest IP 72.181.156.16) on 23-04-2007 08:08

What incredibly powerful, beautiful work; thank you.

 

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By: Michael Grover (Registered) on 24-04-2007 21:24

...

By: Michael Grover (Registered IP 65.9.233.112) on 24-04-2007 21:24

Wonderful stuff. Beautifully human stories.

 

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