Wire angels of death hang outside the governor’s mansion
Lucifer clones hovering over Mrs. Governor as she decks the tree;
gazing into her handblown glass bulbs
she barely notices reflections of the gaping faces of Darfur
staring back as her son asks:
Does Santa go to Africa Mommy?
She hangs the bulbs distorted with faces as she answers blithely,
No honey they don’t believe in Christmas over there.
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