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20 the minnesota review Georgia Scott Three Times Yes Everyday it's the same. You go to buy some bread, enough for breakfast and sandwiches in case a friend comes by when on the way you see the signs telling you in Russian there are no mines and the German for grocery and the Polish 3 ? yes the stare from walls like tatooed arms. The past keeps turning up tripping you in your steps like the cat that leaves behind dead things or the smell of gas no one can trace but you know is there and waits for the door to close for you to be alone, just breathing. Here, the walls weep for themselves. They seep with the past like egg from a shell that shatters in a a bag of shopping and runs through the pages of your identity card smearing your picture with a jaundiced thumb that ages you all of a sudden, in a house that rots like a fallen bird with a single bulging eye. The taxidermist takes his love elsewhere, leaving you the bones of rooms. You hungrily circle, the last surviving fly. Gdansk, 1988 ...


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