September 9th, 1942, München
Death walking the street
in uniform humming red
and black, stars hiding.
Lose yourself, now
before they find out.
The belly is a hotel
where you show rapacious
blue eyes a room,
change their sheets
and give them fresh towels,
clean white ones
for blood stained rags.
You know, you make it easier,
more comfortable for them,
so they can sleep at night
after a day of murdering
numbers, that’s all, numbers.
Kill your parents,
cut your hair, switch
tongues, lose yourself,
just to survive
in the belly of the Wolf.
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