The Red Wall

This is your first day.
This is your last day.
Hidden in tear gas,
buried in scattered glass.
Terror is pipe bombs,
nails in the brick wall.
People like strewn dice
over a concrete lawn.

Will you remember all of this,
apalling fall, the tender kiss
of flame and pain and bliss
of being spread over the wall?
The red wall, the red wall, the red wall.

Was it your first breath,
or was it your last breath?
In amneosis, screaming
to let them know
that you have arrive here.
Oh, why are you crying?
You’re supposed to be happy,
you’re supposed to be happy here.

Is this all you remember,
is this all you remember,
is this all you remember,
the red wall?