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Upon Seeing Louis Malle’s Au Revoir les Enfants
Seeing is too weak a verb
We live his world through the pain of a boy
Who is lost in the world we adults made
We are lost in the January forest
Without our papers
We haven’t had fish in ages, ma’am. I recommend the rabbit.
Are we rabbits?
Are we the boys?
Are we the Milice?
Are we the Nazis at lunch?
Your papers, please. Your papers, sir
Now let me see your plastic
So that I know who you are
Are there wolves in these woods?
There are wolves everywhere
St. Thomas’s proofs of God’s existence don’t hold water
And neither do ours
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