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Refusenik
Those stories of virgin brides
Bathing in streams of milk,
Of whores, almond-eyed,
Purses of honey and silk.
We clamoured for a taste
Manna from the sky
Wiped the juice from our chins
And fed on every lie.
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And so it came to pass
From Joshua to Sharon
From Jericho to Jenin
The holy trumpets blown
The tanks rolling in
Under a hail of stones.
None was spared but Rahab
For the kindness she had shown.
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Her sons, walking bombs,
Bulldozers at first light,
A dawn of milk and honey
Over the Golan Heights
(Milk of an onion, honey from wasps)
The hills blue and mauve.
A woman wails and spits
In the bitter orange grove.
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