Speaks of holocaust

Tell stories
Scribble memories
Draw sketches
Make movies
Hold lectures
Submit research thesis
And paste it
On their drawers
Bill boards
Evening benches
and wayside lamppost

To know war
You need to become war
And to fake a revolution
You need to be one.

Thus you know how it felt
When flesh slipped off their skin
Gassed, white, pale and parched
Like shadows on dead snow.

And how their eyes bulged
As they lost their smell
And calves tore
Over anticipated miles.

We watch the mounts,
Of garbage
Of clothes
Of bodies
Of swine
Of disease
Of death

Stripped heads crawling
Over bodies of bones
Swept together.

We close our page
Shut down our cable
Stretch our legs
Over coffee and snacks
And call it holocaust.


Karuna said…
Wow. Love this.

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