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Homelessness and Genocide Narrative Poem

#1 Apr 21, 2015 I felt nearly dead but I was alive as I remember sitting in a room labelled "CityU of Seattle Library, looking at rows of White Cubes with my books in them and I was not a vegetable in a com a like they said to each other. The people around me had contempt for me and I wondered again if this was real Genocide. "Park her here", the woman said, "Park the 'Sufferer'(her term) here.God, why did I end up with this? What is it, a Vegetative or Vegetable? Who is Patricia L. McGurk, anyway?" In Washington, D.C. at the Martin Luther King Library, a man calling himself "the President" ordered, "Put its head here," and the person who worked for him leaned my head on the wall as I stood up (near a photo display of the Civil Rights Movement that I tried to explain to him may have been mine or that I had supported the work to end Segregation in the American South for his race, but he refused to listen to me and it was very hard to speak. I was near the free computers the 15-minute express emails on computers I believe I had given to the library I had personally built not far from the MacPherson Square-Franklin Park-Skateboard Park or "Freedom Plaza" "torture area". It normally was called the Metro Center stop across the street from the large Catholic Charities stone building I had paid for and built as a child, connected to the Church I thought I owned but never did own anythiing in the United States. No matter if I paid for it, designed the architecture and subsequently built the institution such as the American Publi Libraries - they stole everything and every ounce or particle of credit for the work involved. "We knew we had a Live Victim, and we proceeded reagrdless or anyway", someone stated perhaps to me in a hearing, I am not certain as I am a victim of horrib le, brutal assaults and murders since that time. It may have been an international conference in Geneva or Vienna, Austria - I am not certain as I was kidnapped as well and brought back to the United States, I believe, to be murdered, stolen from further and tortured publicly in the nation's Capitol area as well as in other states (although Washington, D.C. is a territory, it remains the real capital of the Nationb, the United States of America. What they do in homeless shelters if put all your things or possessions in cubes or big plastic bags, or they make you do it yourself. They may make you sit in a cube "on display", a bubble in a public park or with actual gas, which reminds me of the "Euthanasia Bubble" from my childhood - a public murder in the hospital I believe I owned or own - it may have been the Georgetown Hospital in Washington DC.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 6/4/2015 11:38:00 PM
Patricia, A nice warm WELCOME to poetry soup. I hope you have fun with this wonderful community. You'll find many friendly poets who are ready to support and give positive feedback. I will enjoy following you and your poetry when you are ready :) We are Lucky To Have you. Enjoy Poetry Soup:) Your New Poet Friend @-> LINDA <-@
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Date: 6/1/2015 11:33:00 PM
Patricia, Stopping by with a nice, sweet Welcome to Poetry Soup. I will get much delight in reading and in time become familiar with your verse. As for now, I will greet you with the same smile others passed when I first joined the soup. Wishing you and your poetry the best. I hope you get to meet all the nice poets around here STARTING with me- SKAT :-) Please drop a hello and tell me a little about yourself if you wish. I would like to be your newest poetry soup "FRIEND" Hugs* SKAT
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