Feet Pounding
Metal Door-Knobs
Slip away
Piling at the corridor's end.
Over and over doors sweep open
And faces blossom like tulips opening
Everything closes.
The gas chamber is
Mobile again
And makes Good speed -
God speed.
The yawning awning
Collapses sideways
On the massing crowds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem