\u2013 after the photograph \u201cAzerbaijan. Baku. Salt Marshes. 1997\u201d by Reza<\/p>\n
\u201cOne day, Armenian military men arrived at our door. Years later, the high principal that I was lives with his family in a slum in the outskirts of Baku and works all day to extract salt so as to feed the children\u2026. my kids do not go to school any longer, and I cannot teach them anything. When I arrive back home at night after walking the long distance that separates me from the salt marshes, they are already asleep.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n ___<\/span><\/p>\n In old Russia, the most important guest of the King and Queen \u2013 after the photograph \u201cAzerbaijan. Baku. Salt Marshes. 1997\u201d by Reza \u201cOne day, Armenian military men arrived at our door. Years later, the high principal that I was lives with his family in a slum in the outskirts of Baku and works all day to extract salt so as to feed the children\u2026. my kids […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[9],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-11P","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3957"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3957"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3957\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10334,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3957\/revisions\/10334"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3957"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3957"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3957"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nwas seated nearest the salt canisters.
\n___<\/span>Miles of coarse white.
\n___<\/span>The blue-black sky behind him like an apology.
\n___<\/span>A white cloth over his head to prevent sweat from tainting the salt.
\nFarbad\u2019s hard drive into land, to prod out the needed.
\nAll the extracting must amount to something.
\n___<\/span>The shovel\u2019s metal head stabs white,
\n___<\/span>like how teachers coax goodness out.
\n___<\/span>A salt marsh must surely shrink.
\nWith blistered hands,
\nhe works the mind into a fervor, works
\nthe shovel\u2019s long handle into a splinter.
\n___<\/span>Those who have nothing to give
\n___<\/span>are no different
\n___<\/span>than those with something but with no means to give it.
\nHe walks home, kisses the children good-night,
\ntheir little skulls open on the hinges.<\/p>\nJanee Baugher<\/a><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"