A Message From The East

My salvo

boot heels showering the steps
off the plane

my clicking morse code
a panic plea to Heaven.
 

My salvo

one hand given me,
to millions perhaps;
palm sweating bullets
and floodlight nightmares i
hoped continents
might wake from
before this.

My salvo

an infant’s head struck a
split drum screaming the
brownshirts on as
goosestepping vermin
squirm in torch light.

My salvo

i hear the throat
that roars bleeding granite,
burning magnets drawing
us into fields of barbed wire,
snakes, and starved bodies
limp with a last twitched jerk
of hate

just down the hall

(later you can find me around the Bendlerblock)

My salvo.

i will leave this love bomb
smile with golden teeth
wrenched by all of our hands
and allow them, for once,
to see beyond chimney smoke
through this eye which
can no longer see
and no longer
wants to.

Here, Mein Fuhrer.
I have a message for you
from the East