It was a routine day
the way to work
marked out by sameness
packed in a steamy cattle truck
like extras in a film
faces closed down
strangers, unknown to anyone
apart from family and friends
apart from those who cry when we're not there
apart from millions who will experience
one tiny shock
to hear what happened next :
a flash of soundless light
changed everything, forever.
Bad editing, a jump
or in a dream,
where brown and red
can shift around
and no-one registers a thing
not for a second
not 'til the pain cuts in.
then it was bellowing of cattle
the noise of fear and pain
worse than an abattoir
much worse than when we kill to eat
neatly, in order.
Why not just line us up
Go there strip off, breathe in and die.
Why not that ordered Nazi neatness
to reach their goal?
Why so much blood?
Why tear us all apart
like spoiled kids
who rip their toys
scream like a jet
and throw red paint against the wall
to get their way?
And yet I know that I'm the lucky one
to have a heart that beats
to spite the empty space below my knees,
and every time my eyelids close
somehow the pinkness of the filtered light
conjures up images of tortured flesh
just torn up flesh,
no more than that
Halal or hamburger,
I do not care
Whether the author of our pain
Is now in heaven with a thousand virgins
Or laughing in his mess with brother officers
I do not care
Or screaming in hell while demons
using exquisite pains
put him together
I do not care
Or in the highest office in the world
bathing in lies
drowned in hypocrisy
I do not care
You who can freely walk the streets
You care. Break the routine of death.
I only want to walk again.
