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I bet you think I made that up,
that this is some dystopian anti-elegy,
and that I am another Cassandra, bemoaning
a distant, inevitable future, but I saw it,
not ten minutes ago, on the side of a wasp
yellow truck parked on Fourth street,
the words wrapped in a ring around three
capital A’s and what looks like a house
falling to pieces. It was a kind of insignia,
like FDIC, but instead of insuring money,
they ensure silence, they ensure plausible
deniability, they ensure that what was,
will never be again. And from the back
of the truck, the roar of unseen blades,
shredding unseen pages, and I wonder
who is in charge, and is it a cabinet
level position, and what law chartered
its mission, and when did it pass, this law
that no one has ever read, that no one
will ever find, because it vanished in the back
of a yellow truck rumbling on fourth street.
Copyright 2020 José Alcantara
José Alcantara teaches high school math in Aspen, Colorado.
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Something is wrong with this website. It said I’d previously made a comment when I hadn’t
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Sorry, Vincent. There are rightwing gremlins in the website.
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