in all of this ennui, this outrage
yet we sit blandly where people
were dead--had been for ages.
We are the ones who are alleged
to dust off the drifting ash before
standoff, feel around for the edge
standoff, feel around for the edge
of backlash, its puny incoherence.
But we listen; learning now how
all news is unbearable, how it all
allows us to be portals standing
impatient, indifferent, in disgrace.
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