There were days when you’d shove
your hand into a cupboard in search of a cabbage
and come upon the head of Alfredo Garcia
others when you’d thread a needle
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and imagine you were darning a hole
out of which the evil of the world could escape
times when you’d press a knob on the oven
and conjure the six million
naked, shorn in the shower.
But at night the curtains drawn,
the door locked and bolted
you felt safe, yourself and your care.
No matter how many horror stories
swam into your mind
you never imagined this nightmare -
you lived in a democracy, yourself
and your care, under an elected government,
who cherished each citizen
far from the laboratories of jackbooted men.
from Blood Debts, by Celia de Fréine
