7.7. Anonymous 7

To Russia With Love

for Jozef Szczypek

they fed you bread mixed with sawdust

smashed your trust like pound cake

and made a good portion

of a whole generation of Poles

half-fake going on for the rest

of their lives

the trains that brought you

to Siberia held no water, no milk,

no light; the trees in that

Katyn forest must have wept

themselves to sleep to see

little boys with cans

tied to their belts and spoons

in their pockets because

whatever was served

you put in the can and

walked away; the bugs that

crept over you at night

were confused too, searching

for a sweat that doesn't come

from 200 to 400 ounces

of bread, the dead mixed

with the living to form a dull

glow, the very last possible

stage of love, the part even

past forgiveness that sits with

giant mute eyes whispering

please, wake up, this is not

how life should happen

this isn't us.

Anonymous believes in harmony but (omitted) once lost (omitted) karma while riding (omitted) bicycle down a slippery hill and though “It was worth it” had to stay in (omitted) room for a week without (omitted) dinner/supper.

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