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Spring 1986 · Vol. 15 No. 1 · p. 22 


Jean Janzen

Dinner at the country club
by the windows, the wind
tearing at the palm trees,
small lights coming on
across the river.

Our host is pouring
coffee and stories:
thousands of refugees,
his hands so recently
on their swollen bellies,
their paper cheeks,
and then the pictures
on the screen, faces
against the chain-link fence.

All of us together
in this velvet room,
waiting for the ship
to come
and rescue us.

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