SUBJECT>Re: Two POSTER>Rockwell EMAIL>rockwell@iceman.com DATE>1110794114 IP_ADDRESS>168.12.253.66 PASSWORD>aaSxTrYQIxfI6 PREVIOUS>84724 NEXT> 84752 84783 IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

Well made and told, Leo. Thanks.

: Two
: Koniuchy, Eastern Poland, 1944
: Perhaps there are real angels who assist
: the ghosts of martyrs to the other side,
: since what is left behind cannot resist
: the flames of hell? A family of three died
: slowly at the hands of hateful men,
: and Yaakov Prenner, holding match and gas,
: looks at the residue of pain: a ten
: inch block of wood lodged in the father’s ass,
: skin peeled from the mother’s neck and back,
: brain matter from the infant on the floor.
: He knows the enemy will soon attack,
: and that if caught he won’t survive the war.
: In Yiddish he commands his men to pour,
: to strike, and like Lot, never to look back.
: Gleiwitz, 1945
: A boy of thirteen wears the pitch black pants
: of German scouts. Some women look with glee
: and try to drown his cries. They curse in
: chants.
: They’re Jewish guards from State Security
: who are too full of hate to want to hear
: that he’s too young to be a Nazi, his face
: the hairless face of innocence, a tear
: on his cheek his only shield. And still, they
: race
: to pock his tender flesh with cigarettes,
: delighting Lilith-like in the cruel scene.
: They almost feel the pangs of something higher,
: but they have come this far without regrets:
: They douse his light blond hair with
: gasoline
: and free him with the mercy of their fire.