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Our Time
A Poem by:
Jan
Oskar Hansen
Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the
Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written
consent.
This morning the tiger escaped,
claw marks
on asphalt. The sun is hazy, somewhere to
the east, a big city burns. Big, grey carrions
circle above the landscape where the pods
of carob trees are black fingers falling off
hands that used to point forward. Something
is rotten in the land of Christianity.
Jan Oskar Hansen
Copyright © 2004
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2004 K. Kianush, Art Arena
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