Friday, March 19, 2010


Every day I stand at his side.
I wipe the board: clouds of chalk particles
burn the inside of my throat.
I clean his pens.

He tells me he dreams
of clouds of particles. Burning clouds
over the Black Forest. He was accused
of being Jewish—but "acquitted"
because they needed him
for the Uranium Club.
He crumples up equations
and tries again.

I empty the wastebaskets
and burn the papers. I know the direction
his thoughts are taking.
He dreams of burning particles.
He thinks Germany can't build a bomb
in time to win. He's uncertain.

My position is secure
but I have no direction. If he were certain—
one way or another.
I would act. Or not act.
My orders are to prevent the bomb
by any means
by any means necessary
I empty the wastebaskets
and burn the papers.
I dream of burning particles.

Every day I stand close to him
but he knows nothing of the direction
my thoughts are taking.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

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