three

they find it hard to

swallow that I once

shared my mother's breast

with Yassir Arafat.

I find it hard to swallow

knowing i share my milk

with him.

and no one wants to

admit that we share

the earth with Democrats

Communists, even the

man with no legs

selling newspapers

at the intersection

of Westheimer and

Voss.

i lived there once--

not under the bridge

but over. i've always

been over the bridge

even when we were

under-- it seems we've

always worked it out

somehow. i find myself

increasingly nervous around

my mother

as she becomes increasingly

stingy with her breastmilk

(and her Kyoto conferences)

and all it takes for

me to come to the realisation

of myself

i've got a UN peace treaty

in my head

preaching judgement

with vision

shaken, not stirred

like Rev. Martin Luther

King Junior.

where is my 100 that

i can nail to the door of

this quaint little German

church called Amerika?

\

they've got a statue now

--a testimonial to memory

and recently they were

rebuilding the Dresden Altstadt

--a testimonial to forget