1941
Whenever my all-too-vulnerable soul is threatened by evil's demons,
The sheer virulence of those who abominate and discriminate,
My blood begins to slow, coagulate; it quits flowing, goes cold,
As though the planet were gripped in the throes of a cataclysmic freeze
In which no life — planet, animal, man, stone — can survive,
Amidst Über-forces that decide destinies, fates, the trajectory of death.
These days, I'm just a slave, prisoner, victim of ancestral footsteps,
And nothing I might contribute to this disordered cosmos
Can add the slightest iota of sense to the insane, ordered discourse
Currently raging among those advocating deportation, "resettlement,"
Tattooing our psyches, with yellow six-pointed badges,
Stitching them to our tallisim, phylacteries, payesses, yarmulkes,
To distinguish us from Romas, syphilitics, homosexuals, idiots, dwarfs,
Political dissidents, Jehovah's Witnesses, all manner of non-Aryans,
Isolate us as poisonous kikes — the lowest form of inhuman life.
Tonight, the terror gushing through my arteries and veins, my heart,
Turns my blood into a crackling-fat ocean floated with ashes, bones.
Seeing nowhere else to go, I dive into its freeing flames.
02/02/12
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