Eskimo

Eskimo I open the body, but don’t see the papaya seeds Brown riches, bursting against the orange fruit Of this person, unanimated, under glass. One dessicated, Inuit anonymous man, eyes shut too loosely against pain Ten thousand words for melted snow in water running from his eyes Pink adipose like whale blubber, consumed by chemicals, then stripped away So this man could be part of an exhibit in Germany Preserved for all time as memoriam, as living proof That people could be taken, stripped, studied That people could be specimens That fruit could be dried, tasteless, visible. Displayed, even...

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