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Florence Weinberger-lII




It isn’t stroke or old age

that erases our language

and razes our voices.


A blight has muffled tenderness.

The righteous have resigned.

Some, given cash incentives,

sell their minds.


Convinced they are ineffective,

the good stay home.

The self-elected fill the gap,

inventing truths, disinfecting lies.


Like ravaging birds they cross the land

squawking caw caw caw caw caw,

we will change your life.