To Iron Mountain

They are disassembling the shelves
Rearranging the pallets, loading the semis

The guards are killing the daughters
Or the daughters are killing the guards

The cards are put on the table
Hands rapping out rhythms

Spirit rapping in the newspapers
And in the history books written by the sisters

Ghosts of the family held hostage
The release date yet to be announced


The violin loves the tree
But the tree loves nothing but itself

Not even the breeze
Making music in its branches

In certain books this is called romance

Norman Finkelstein (© 2006)