225 – The Wannsee Conference

Poem number 225
.
The Wannsee Conference
.
Gathered round a table
Egos bristling, hostile eyes
Arguing semantics
Dotting ‘T’s and crossing ‘I’s.
Whole blood, half blood, fit to work
Evacuation trains,
Sterilise the lot,
Or put a bullet in their brains,
Shower rooms in distant camps
A van with rubber hose,
Load them in and brush them out
Then burn them with their clothes.
This must be the solution
Say these men in shiny shoes
Their hands round crystal glasses
As they plan to kill the Jews,
Driven by their hatred
And a fear for their own hides
Mouthing ugly mantras
In the face of turning tides
Just men around a table
With inflated sense of worth
Just men around a table
But this meeting shook the Earth.