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The Fathers By Nathan Wainstein Don’t look at the Fathers. Leering out of the dark, lights ringing their boy-faces, Lights turned inward, non-lights radiating non-shadow. Born with sacred eyes they have perceived History in negatives and girls and boys in technicolor. They are looking at you and not looking: the Fathers only detect contrast. You are like static on a security monitor, a freefloating soul. Your non-face is shattered. So don’t look at them. Would you stare at the holes of a blind man?

Profile for The Blue Route

The Blue Route 2  

The Blue Route 2  

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