He Forgot We Were Chldren

When proud daddy took us to
prison on a very special tour he
forgot we were very young children
all three of us under eight with
sweet innocence trailing around us
he pointed to the dreaded gas chamber
in a brand new prison back in 1956
like someone showing off his new car
he never noticed how fear settled
in our dilated pupils, nausea held back
by childish giggles / horror made us fidgety
daddy continued his discourse never
noticing how we weren’t listening
we stood on tiptoes our noses pressed
to the glass separating us from death
squirming an arms length away the
angel of death putting an end to
summer’s childhood innocence
replacing it with spiny cactus stuck
in our throats choking, squeezing our chests
lungs / heart thinking who gave
man the power to take another’s life
we moved closer to daddy’s warm
safe large brown body devoid of
hate / evilness wondering if he
really could keep us safe, daddy
pointed to the black lever of death
an evil omen that singed our minds
while the hot breath of condemned men
made the hairs on our necks stand up
in the reflection of glass dead men danced
while we touched the black submarine
keeping desperate men in line
when daddy’s little children went
to bed with prisoner’s in their backyard
we dreamed of a cursed chair with
leather straps for a dead man’s legs,
torso / arms, a black hooded man
pulling the lever of death / a roaring
fire burning evil tumbleweeds
consuming souls of the lost shaking us
out of a frightful dream crying for condemned
men wondering if they are afraid to die
daddy will feed them their last supper
the priest from St. John’s the Baptist
Catholic Church in Santa Fe will
come to hear a dead man’s last prayer
but who will cry for them
Who??



July 21, 2003