Akko: The Memory of the Prisoners of the Underground
by Steven Joyce

    Like a Chihuly glass
    chandelier these lives
    drawn and pressed in the heat
    of political fury
    the artisans of this work
    neither Brits nor Jews
    Etzel and Lechi fighters
    spun like glass
    this heroism
    breaks in the dark room
    in the unrecorded moments
    smooth faces twitch and already bury
    their heads into a soft bosom
    hemp never meant for this work
    its braid strong and thick
    yet like water able to follow
    the pulse of life to unthinkable finality
    dry terror these kids
    already the ghosts of Karney Hitin
    deepen the shadow on the gallows
    hanged hanged hanged
    these young men with clear skin
    crusaders caught again in Akko
    they take
    nice pictures
    a fraternity stunt
    gone wrong
    that ended
    badly
    Mordechai, Yechiel,
    Dov, Eliezer

    good boys spun
    by heat and fire and legend
    into things of frozen light.






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