Anthems of Death / Bob Brussack

Stand just inside your door and listen.
Do you hear them?
Do you hear the jackboots
Splashing through puddles,
Beating the rhythms
Of anthems of death?
Or just the cicadas
Clattering for sex
On a midsummer night?

Look down the street.
Do you see them?
Do you see the machetes
Swinging through children,
Marking the measures
Of anthems of death?
Or just Mrs. Olsen
Trimming her hedge
On a midsummer day?

Why are we here,
Not there? How did we
Inherit the latitudes and longitudes
Of sanctuary?

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