Fumbled Intentions
Fritz Wilhelm owned
the company that
made Zyklon-B,
the gas used at the
camps. Showers
they would say,
and march the prisoners
off to be gassed. Onto
mass graves to where
no one will find
a cross over their
head. Men like Fritz
controlled the German
industrial machine
and hoped the world
would soon follow
in that gilded
Nazi Pathway.
But when a man thinks
he is in power,
the world permits
that he willfully
submits to Nuremberg
and persecution by the
victors or the man will
amble into Argentina,
raving at Bethlehem.
And along the sky,
shivering at thoughts
he should not have had,
bats fly out of the belfry
but none of his churches
ever had any bell towers,
only broken crosses.
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