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Sacrament
My village’s only common property
is a single pistachio tree
that belongs in a nursing home
but we give her twenty-four-hour care
in the spot in which she has always stood
We live on a diet of thistle stems
and burdock roots
and thus we have all begun
to hallucinate
The children are dead or dying
but we see them playing
A pistachio is a sacrament
The shell His body
the nut His blood
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