They crowded toward those sliding doors
weary, irritated, uncomfortable, stale
husband, wife, daughter, son
jumped from that wooden car
Second-class window seats turned to standing room only
the barbed wire fences brought no shock
misty gray fog hid the way
squish squish squash
Families split
Men to the left
Women and children to the right
inching forward one by one
A doctor’s motion meant life or death
We’ll give you a shower
Feed you, clothe you
One line seemed better than the other
Tears ran freely as the smaller line broke away
Will we see Jakob and Daddy after our shower?
Why can’t they come too?
Won’t we need our luggage?
Without a sound they all obeyed
SS soldiers led the way
Squish Squish Squash
Tracks led down the long muddy path
the line broke left and right
Two bath houses are much more efficient
Women, children, old, disabled
filed in quickly
shed their clothes
and made their way through those basement doors
The large room filled to capacity
What a large room for just a few showerheads
The metal door reverberated as it slammed
The slide of the bolt produced instant panic
The small square door creaked open
three cans, already opened, crashed down
one by one
side by side
a shower of death
Were those others so very lucky?
Jakob and his daddy
dressed in stripes
registered and began right away
working themselves to the bone
Building more barracks for their brothers to come
Laboring all day without a break
given only a hunk of brown bread
then herded to that long holey slab
just two seconds allowed
no paper
no privacy
They walk the three km trek back to camp
enter through that black iron gate
The rows of bunkers repeat as far as the eye can see
Machine guns point from every wooden tower
Accounted for
they split off to their bunkers
Three to a bunk – not even a twin
those on the bottom drenched in excrement and vomit
One man rolls, so must the others
straw mattress
no blanket
Heaters once used for the horses who had resided there
deemed unnecessary for the humans
A night of little sleep
They line up again
Another day of work
to work until their death
A replacement near at hand
‘Arbeit Macht Frei’
Work brings freedom
In fifty-two years
groups of silent, heavily-wrapped people of all nationalities
wade through that misty fog
Squish through the muddy pathways
to follow the railways and enter
through those barbed gates
Watch towers empty
no lines and doctors for them
Guides point
Nikons flash
The vast rubble is unbelievable
there is no land not occupied by a bunker chimney and surrounding debris
Impossible to imagine
Impossible to describe
the evil that planned and executed here
but perhaps
working to always remember
will bring freedom
weary, irritated, uncomfortable, stale
husband, wife, daughter, son
jumped from that wooden car
Second-class window seats turned to standing room only
the barbed wire fences brought no shock
misty gray fog hid the way
squish squish squash
Families split
Men to the left
Women and children to the right
inching forward one by one
A doctor’s motion meant life or death
We’ll give you a shower
Feed you, clothe you
One line seemed better than the other
Tears ran freely as the smaller line broke away
Will we see Jakob and Daddy after our shower?
Why can’t they come too?
Won’t we need our luggage?
Without a sound they all obeyed
SS soldiers led the way
Squish Squish Squash
Tracks led down the long muddy path
the line broke left and right
Two bath houses are much more efficient
Women, children, old, disabled
filed in quickly
shed their clothes
and made their way through those basement doors
The large room filled to capacity
What a large room for just a few showerheads
The metal door reverberated as it slammed
The slide of the bolt produced instant panic
The small square door creaked open
three cans, already opened, crashed down
one by one
side by side
a shower of death
Were those others so very lucky?
Jakob and his daddy
dressed in stripes
registered and began right away
working themselves to the bone
Building more barracks for their brothers to come
Laboring all day without a break
given only a hunk of brown bread
then herded to that long holey slab
just two seconds allowed
no paper
no privacy
They walk the three km trek back to camp
enter through that black iron gate
The rows of bunkers repeat as far as the eye can see
Machine guns point from every wooden tower
Accounted for
they split off to their bunkers
Three to a bunk – not even a twin
those on the bottom drenched in excrement and vomit
One man rolls, so must the others
straw mattress
no blanket
Heaters once used for the horses who had resided there
deemed unnecessary for the humans
A night of little sleep
They line up again
Another day of work
to work until their death
A replacement near at hand
‘Arbeit Macht Frei’
Work brings freedom
In fifty-two years
groups of silent, heavily-wrapped people of all nationalities
wade through that misty fog
Squish through the muddy pathways
to follow the railways and enter
through those barbed gates
Watch towers empty
no lines and doctors for them
Guides point
Nikons flash
The vast rubble is unbelievable
there is no land not occupied by a bunker chimney and surrounding debris
Impossible to imagine
Impossible to describe
the evil that planned and executed here
but perhaps
working to always remember
will bring freedom
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