Ship of Fools

In a twilight shadows slip down the screen, while the many cozy

seats stay empty and untouched. No one wants to see the film

on silence and holocaust, on sick people floating on

a ship, painting blooms into blank pages and, abandoned, telling

one another of another day in the camps.

And the cities? They’re trunks full of lead. States don’t need

coddling, they’ve avenged their lands and left the sidewalks to

addled boys and patients.

Silent, after the projection, in confusion I walk the city

that turns into a ship of fools and vanishes in the river.