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Well versed with Poetry on the Picketline
Nadia Drews

And So the Struggle

Speeches clapped
And then shut up
In thumbed fist,
Wrinkled skins of books
With slogan spines,
Backs broken,
Crooked.
And so the struggle.

Marches passed
Like channels changed
On blurred screens,
Dated placards wave,
Forced forward,
Steps stride,
Out of range.
And so the struggle.

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