The Museum of Tolerance

The Museum of Tolerance


has opened its doors
and, as agreed, we forgive all sins.

We check our coats
and regretfully remember
the twentieth century: War, war, war
followed closely by manned space flight.

I have the sudden urge to telephone old girlfriends
and apologize!

This is the Museum of Tolerance: one room
with its one exhibit placed on a white satin pillow
which rests comfortably on an antique maple chair.

The exhibit: a small, red stone.

What does it mean? The debate begins simply enough
but adjectives and adverbs soon fill the room.

A man says,"If I am going to love somebody
then she must love me first."

Flashbulbs, the whir of advancing film.

The Museum of Tolerance, thank God, is open all night
but nobody can agree on the price of admission.


Sherman Alexie..........from The Summer of Black Widows