HITLER’S BLUE
He wakes at dawn
With Eva Braun
At his side
Fingering a tablet of cyanide.
In the white of the pill
He sees snow, deep and still,
Soon to be trampled by Wehrmacht feet
Staggering westward in frigid defeat.
Made black and filthy with garbage and grease,
The snow has forgotten her moment of peace.
Yes, white is disgusting, the sign of surrender,
Of doves and feelings feminine and tender.
Red is a color he much prefers,
Masculine passion red’s boldness stirs.
Red, decisive, nothing held back,
Not for submission but ruthless attack.
He bows to blue for its ineffable charms,
From the Schwerer Gustav to the smallest sidearm.
Walls drenched in residue from Zyklon B,
Blue is the fulfillment of destiny.
I shot an arrow into the air,
It did not fall to earth anywhere.
Instead it sails, silent, straight, and true,
Forever through a sky of Prussian blue.
