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Patricia Burke Brogan

DECOLLAGE

I.
From darkness
I drag black refuse bags,
unwind fastenings,
pull out shredded crimsons,
tumble scraps of siennas, burnt umbers
with starched whites and torn ultramarines.
The ghost of Perushka pirouettes on CD,
criss-crosses, turns head-over-heels,
weaves polytonals for Stravinsky
as I arrange and seal netted colours,
build slabs of ochre,
mix textures coarse and delicate
with ragged memories, forgotten loves.

II.
For these anniversaries
I scrape and slice colours,
slit and gouge surfaces,
dig out haunted potato fields
stained by another Holocaust.
From that child of Hiroshima
I tear off multiple images. ;
Shadows remain
and I begin again.

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