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Mahatmama - Bruce V. Bracken's All-Purpose Poetry Thing

Oh, baby, didn't you used to be so hot?
Kind of like Waco tear gas
Gandhi asks about your blankets and your sheets
Little sister, are you warm?

Memsahib, do you feel tired, do you feel cold?
Come and sit here by the fire
As we wait in line, our SS cards in hand
To consign them to the flames

© 2001 Bruce V. Bracken