Sunday Poem

Djinn

Haunted, they say, believing
the soft, shifty
dunes are made up
of false promises.

Many believe
whatever happens
is the other half
of a conversation.

Many whisper
white lies
to the dead.

“The boys are doing reallt well.”

Some think
nothing is so
until it has been witnessed.

They believe
the bits are iffy;

the forces that bind them,
absolute.

by Rae Armantrout
from Poetry, Vol. 192. No. 3, June
publisher: Poetry, Chicago, 2008

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