Block Fall from the Zyklon Door
When you have passed nonplussed
by rumours
of ovens
of being burned alive by the horde
calcinated bones in torrid ashes
teeth without a name
pebbles in the sands of hate waves
When between you and the other side
is the block-flesh thrust through to Himmelweg
too late
you smell the Zyklon trap
about to be sprung on your innocence
your children looking to you for a way out
not daring to believe
you have left home without an answer
You can only wonder at how they led you
each child's hand ensconced in its mother's
the old and the infirm weeded out
the pill in the nape
of men rushed ahead from their charges
huddled
slapped jostled
whipped
for daring to ask with rifle butt
whacked
jabbed bundled
trundled
the eye searching hazily the breach under the helmet
benumbed fate
squashed hope
in the last faltering meek steps
It's only
when you're on the other side of yourself
between you and the block-flesh
forming on the other side of the zyklon door
You may wonder why you let your anger go
in safekeeping
Dedicated to those sacrificed in Concentration Camps during World War II.
(© T.Wignesan 1987: July 2,1987 [from the collection: back to background material,1993])
poem by T. Wignesan
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