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Legacy MAG
May 28, 2010
The keyboard rattles like machine-gun fire,
Echoing in the blank solitude of the mind.
Outside, infantry scramble through the trenches,
Like poison courses through twisted veins.
In the heart of darkness, in broad daylight,
Children line up against a wall
One
Two
Three
And empty shells fall to the ground.
Brass casings swim in the mud
Like bodies fill mass graves;
It’s nap time in Auschwitz,
Nap time in Dachau,
Nap time in every time zone,
Regardless of what the clocks say.
This is a metaphor
This is a Molotov
This is a memoir of mankind,
Condensed.
© Sarah A., Escondido, CA
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