cries out like a bugle
playing “The last post.”
The eyes of the lost ask me to tell
what is unspeakable,
but I have nothing
except to ask why bugles are not played for you
at Remembrance Ceremonies.
Were you not soldiers too
fighting for the right to breathe?
The “right to life,”
As you dragged yourself off the truck
Not quite believing but
Yet ,yes,believing,.paradoxically that
Soon you would be silent amd still.
Your teeth carefully taken for gold”
Yes,they were green alright
Recycling was very important to the Nazi..
One might almost say they were the pioneers here..
So was hygiene. They practised so well
How to wash theiir hands clean from guilt,
So much soap they needed
So they could play Mozart
and tenderly touch their children
Then sleep on clean linen enjoying such dreams.
Soon the world would be perfect.
all in order,all tidied away,
Unique ,complete, orderly ,dead..
Yes, death of everything w as the real final solution.
All packed away in boxes,
Waiting for the Resurrrection.
How far is it to heaven from where we started?
Wiould Jesus like to meet you now,,to greet you,
So pure,clean and perfect?
You have cut out your own heart with the breadknife
Because it troubled you so,beating like that.
When you were only doing your duty.
Doing what men have to do.
A dove flew up as the agnostic man comforted the frightened boy
And hand in hand they died right there
At the foot of the Cross.
Which you revered,I believe.
But it was your son there hanging
So,who are you?
How my heart sings 