Poetry by Donal Mahoney

Synagogue Graffiti

 

 

 

The kitchens of Belsen are belching again.

Ancient chefs, puffed hats askew,

storm once more

the catwalks swaying.

 

When the ovens are full,

the chefs dig pits

in the kitchen floor, set

silver spits, roast fryer thin

 

the legs and wings they’ve

cleaned and cleavered. Yes,

the kitchens of Belsen are belching again.

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