‘Shoah’

The last day comes
Like any other cloudy morn
And its unwelcome cold
Arresting our souls,
The wire
Weaved by thorns
Chases us in circles
like blonde children with guns
taunting any chance of escape
And misunderstanding the hope of the common man
And his secret precious life
Hidden beneath an undesired countenance;
The Versailles weren’t kind
In teaching the famine’s children
That to abstain from strife
You must turn against the Chosen,
Die schweinhundisch kyke;
So the Yiddish children carry the burden
Under the skull men’s
crushing calls,
Fast, yid!  Arbeit, yid!
With no resting at all–
This time
Avraham’s blade has come too close,
and G-d is abstinent
As Nietzsche wrote,
the eight Jewish flames
comatose–.
The gray men enter the courtyard to stifle the weak; or are they too strong?
To hunt Solomon’s gazelle, its prey of Hope
of nationhood and escape;
As the beads sprinkle along the still stone,
that notorious strangler–

One last thought

And its menagerie of many words
From the naked men and hairless women
Courses through my mind like the blood of life,
Never loud enough:
It            Stay     is
 so        I        here    Hear
  forever      dark    O     with
  Love         what    me!
is      you     in   Israel   here
     that     so      sound
       the  where
     is          Lord
    much              it
is               coming      from?
        One.
–.
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