Report from a Besieged World: Refugee Crisis Devolving into Chaos

Southern Nights

a_refugeesWhat I Saw

To the memory of Kazimierz Moczarski

I saw prophets tearing at their pasted-on beards
I saw imposters joining sects of flagellants
butchers disguised in sheepskin
who fled the anger of the people
playing on a block-flute

I saw I saw

I saw a man who had been tortured
he now sat safely in the family circle
cracked jokes ate soup
I looked at the opened mouth
his gums – two bramble twigs stripped of bark
I saw his whole nakedness
the whole humiliation

a solemn meeting
many people flowers

someone spoke incessantly about deviations

I thought of his deviated mouth
is this the last act
of the play by Anonymous
flat as a shroud
full of suppressed sobbing
and the snickering of those
who heave a sigh of relief
that again it has worked out
and after clearing away the dead props


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