Anthems

we find   the mode of transport
free and   painful
the propulsion
a vacant scream
where the land   comes forth
the hill   giving way to
the mountain   the river
cutting them through
and this people
they live   their legacy
with an anger   a real and rightful
anger   seething at the way
white drew out
their red
a sliver    i can’t pluck
a moment that   lives on

the small place   down by
the cutting river   a burial ground
where nothing   is dead

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