The Rosenbergs

by Elvira

Prologue: “For I have heard the slander of many;
Fear was on every side;
While they took counsel together against me,
They devised to take away my life.”

Psalms 31

I                                   am                               the thief
in the night:                                                    soul
                                    to steel
                                                                        Breath
                                    to stifle

I                                   am                               the Boogie Man
                                    tormenting                 You and Yours
                                    Disguised
                                    Disguised
                                    Incognito                    as the Penitent
after                                                                Auschwitz

We                              are/were                     YOUR children
                                    seeking                        refuge,
but                              getting                        Promises —
                                                                        Promises
                                    spilling                                    Empty Words
                                    Looking                       behind them;
                                                                        sugary symbols
                                    made               in
smoked backrooms                                        by
men of power,                        offering                       Life,
                                    screaming:
“You’ll NEVER SEE your children . . .
                        NEVER AGAIN!”

                                                                        Words,
                                                                        Words
                                                                        Words
                                    bouncing                     off the wall;
slander’s knife                        finding                        its target
                                    Would                         that we
                                    DIED!

Now,                                                               as we
                                    breathe                       our last,
ONLY God                   knows                         the Truth,
that ephemeral                                              word
                                    encompassing            black gray white

Question:                    did                               the smoke
from the Flesh
                                    make                           you happy?
                                    Did                              you NOT
                                    see                              the Ghetto’s Map
                                    stamped                     on our faces?

The oldest Tribe         shunned,                    until
                                                                        it’s
                                    known                         we
                                    own                             the Company

Rome, itself                killed                           Him,
then                            changed                      its stripes:
                                                                        America
                                                                        Europe
                                                                        Asia
Forever                       cleaning                      Hands             of
                                    gritted                                     Blood
that                                                                 NEVER
                                    goes                            way!

                                    Were                           we
                                    guilty?                         The father
more                                                               than the Mother,
                                    trying to make                        her
betray                                                             her heart.

In the end,                                                      the foe you
                                    saw was                      a suicide,
and you                      are                               on a respirator.

Hell                             is                                 cold, and
            Heaven (New America)                      No
                                                                        Better!

April 28, 2011

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