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So here is how it goes

I am walking down
wet and muddy stony
really stony alleys
of the Warsaw cemetery
Jewish that is
just by the ghetto
once here and ever,
reading those stones,
I guess, of the lucky
Jew people and persons
who got to die in their beds
at home or hospital
and from the grave beyond
got someone to put up a marker
with all kinds of words
to fix their life in stone,
and just across the street
on the now rebuilt Polish city
once lived and then
died killed murdered
some 350,000 Jews,
so I along with other
genocide tourists
am looking
for some metaphor or simile
or symbol
that’s it symbol
to lend grasp and mastery
even unde