Sunday, April 20, 2014
POEM: "To Lu Xun, from the Iron House"
To Lu Xun, from the Iron House
Locked inside the iron house
Seventeen others are snoring
There are no windows anywhere
No ventilation means we’re dying
(Getting sleepy too, I’ll lie down soon)
We have attempted the Big Breakout
We have filled our bodies with blood
We have hammered and screamed for it
It? I mean of course we went for our lives
Like threshing machines, no help for it
No one from outside came to our rescue
No friends, no lovers, no family came
Though at one point we imagined voices
Crying a strange word that sounded like KEEZ!
Which we all stripped buck naked for
Which we shook our dictionaries for
Which we questioned the waiting children for
And we looked deep into each other’s eyes.
© 2013 Rob Schackne