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Dachau

My dream, it crawls on
then in me
a big dark dustcloud
then on the ground, slithering
darting eyes burning
humanity sinking, withering
two paper bags, my lungs
surely afire, scorching, collapsing
and in the dim, the urgency
dancing, naked shadows wrestling
sweating, breasts twisting
heaving, moaning, moaning
breathing it in, gaseous hell
through the well calculated vents
and a thousand deepset eyes
crowlike, hollow and black
watching me watching them
and I begin to smell it,
putrid scents
first the sweat of fear
then urine of terror, feces, and life gone
and I realize, at that moment
I'm being stillborn, there
in my dying mother's womb
which is this death room
full of naked gristle
guts and their lanky shells
then, and always the same
I awake, and i'm bathing
but the residue of my dream
keeps dirtying the lathering soap
and though I try, again, in vain
I can't wash it away, my dream
this nightmare of being stillborn
in Dachau

Submitted: Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Edited: Friday, May 20, 2011


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  • Jerry Pike (10/17/2007 3:16:00 PM)

    A stunnigly awful affair, described with real feeling

    Jerry

    1 person liked.
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