Poltergeist

Your dreams fell in the grass
by the Oder.

How will you find them now?
Through fires in Donetsk

or posts of barbed wire
perhaps.

I once marched to Babi Yar
for tea and cake with you,

But never again.
Now I haunt you under many faces.

You can find me at the pits without tools
or at the polls telling you no,

With rifle in hand that cracks and cracks,
Across the border

collapsing in angry tears,
Reminding you

Your dreams fell in the grass
by the Spree.

poltergeist

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