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The Literary Groong - 02/17/2007

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	Hrant Dink, in memoriam

	By Krikor N. Der Hohannesian

	  They snuffed him - Turkish style,
	a crowded street in Istanbul
	three bullets in the brain
	point-blank, draped his corpse
	in a white shroud weighed 
	down with bricks at four corners,
	left him lying there for onlookers
	to gawk - to what end? Horror? Or,
	This Is What You Get for Being Un-Turkic?

	  He was a journalist just like you, hairig,
	and just like you seeking dialogue,
	no sinister agenda - quite the contrary,
	a life's quest to opening doors
	to the blackened rooms where
	suffering abides, where grudges
	are held tight to the pained heart,
	where decades later old wounds still fester.

	  And we stand, unable to pity the assassin
	or forgive his maniacal hatred, waiting
	for light to come to the lightless.

Krikor Nazar Der Hohannesian was born in a family of artists, writers
and musicians in Boston. He is a graduate of Harvard University, now
semi-retired. His poems have been published in various journals and
magazines, such as The Evansville Review, The Christian Science
Monitor, Ararat, California Quarterly, Permafrost, Chaffin Journal,

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