Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Holocaust Museum, March

Tell me again, why I should
Wish to carry on.  I care not
For blue skies.  I speak only
The language of deictics:
Here, now, I, you, there.

Tell me why I can't help
But flash to stick-figure forms: 
Wide Munch mouths, shapeless
Striped garb, for you, Juden,
Lit only by an Auschwitz sun.

Tell me why the mindless
Chatter grates and scrapes.
Marbles fill my mouth.  I
Cough, quite delicate.  Still
Comes blood, betrayer.

Tell me about that one day.
I radiated joy: chubby fingers,
Cheeks, cute, cute, cute, cute!
What made me laugh?  Who
Shined on me?  He, she, you?

I assumed a funeral.  Instead
We tossed ashes, bits of bone
And metal melted into tooth.
A tick bit me then, there: apt.
If before, then always after.

On myself I choke.  Dust rises
At the berm.  I can't find you in
These life-affirming streaks:
Watercolors at Theresienstadt.
Leave me now.  I am stone.

2 comments:

V-Grrrl @ Compost Studios said...

This so powerful, I'm speechless.

alejna said...

Wow. This knocks the wind out of me. I have read this several times today, and each time I find new meanings layered within. I am, as ever, enthralled by your way with words.