she said she came from Bogota
to Philadelphia: where’s that?
she had laughed before her face turned,
it is where mi papa was killed,
it is where mi mama was killed,
but we must forget that quickly
so she turned her face back again
to an awkward racy laughter,
Kathy, for that was the girl’s name
shifted in her clothes to the crisp
of a new identity that
lost for her memories of loss,
don’t remind me of Bogota:
where’s Philadelphia? it’s here!
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