Asylum Poem by Leslie Philibert

Asylum



1.

Lost childhood in transit; a container full of ghosts
and bottles of piss, the cold and the waiting, the torn
pieces of paper with words in Italian, the mantras.

2.

He turned to me with the eyes of a wounded deer.
I cannot go back to the mud and the kerosine nights.
I have a question - What is this Bundesamt?
A motherless child, paradise lost.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A poem about some work I have been doing
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Joshua Fegley 23 February 2013

I like it. I had to research Bundesamt though. As you do.

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