The president
believes in torture
He has never experienced it
Bombs fall
on distant mountains
People die
– but they are abstractions
They
flee their homes seeking peace
And a
future for their families
But they
are not real and find the door
Is closed
because their faces are brown
Preachers
stand with him
Hands on
his shoulders in prayer
He will
not let them kill fetuses
Instead
they will wait until birth
Then turn
their backs so they
Don’t
have to watch them die
--Tom Blessing
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