Thursday, March 2, 2017

Inside the Mind of an American Nazi: a Poem for Our Times

In the Mind of an American Nazi

By David Hartley Mark

Rejoice, Filth!
As you sit on your squeaky chair
In your smelly little room
Surrounded by takeout boxes
That you haven’t cleared out for weeks:

The winds of hatred sweep through your empty head
And stir the red-white swastika on the wall:
On the shelf is the Nazi dagger you bought online
And the stahlhelm you treasure, purchased to protect
Your hardened and brainless skull:

You sit at your dusty computer screen,
The only light in your world—
Its otherworldly glow illuminates
Your dayless night
Your nightless day….

Your body stinks
Like your soulless frame
But you cannot tell
For you cannot smell

Since you are but
An empty shell
Of excrescence:

You tell yourself
You are Master
Of Humanity—
An ubermensch,
A Superman,
Who rules through fear.

With a mouseclick
You send shockwaves of fright
Through children and women
And men
No one can find you
Or your (imaginary) bombs
That you plant
Throughout the land

All are speaking of you,
Hunting for you:

The politicians
Police personnel
And ministers
The President?
(Who has his ear?)

Your bodily stench
Rises to the heavens

But God has cast you out
To utter



And when you tire, and go to restless sleep
On your greasy unmade sheets
Tossing and turning…

Your mind circles back:

To a little boy, crying, begging,
Beaten with a belt
By his drunken, staggering father
Who throws him into a moldy-smelling coat closet
And locks the door:

And the boy lies there, cowering, aching
In the dark, screaming:
“It’s dark!
“It’s dark!

“I didn’t do anything bad!”