Orwell at The Kremlin

Walter Bargen

April 23, 2023

In one corner of Red Square

there’s so much to say,

but it can’t be the word war,

it can’t be the word invasion,

it can only be a Special Military Operation.

Speaking machine gun fast

Can never be fast enough to escape.

So many that were alive leave their bodies 

As they walk into the shell-shocked light.

There’s so much to consider

As the rubble of Mariupol deepens 

Into an amnesia of dust

And bodies are lost forever sinking 

Deeper into the rubble 

When not buried in front and back yards,

In the medians of streets, in city parks,

Where knee-high crosses sprout, 

Carved from splintered staircases 

And shattered doors and windows.

They dangle shreds of cardboard

With names that won’t last. 

Blown away in the next barrage

Or the ink erased by a cold rain 

That quickly descends into blooded mud. 

The old women complain, their shovels

Too heavy with frozen clods of unspeakable 

Syllables. First, there’s too much to shout

As the smoke and dust choke

Every sense clinging to life.

Then there’s too much to scream 

And it can’t be screamed loud and fast enough

As those shot in the back of their heads

Their hands tied behind their backs

Wait for us to speak for them. 

The savage hours can’t be buried 

Deep enough. So many last breaths 

Out of reach. There is no second chance,

No second helping on Red Square,

Where posters are ripped from anguished hands,

Cyrillic shredded and bleeding 

across cobblestones. Ribs, heads, backs 

truncheoned, and a boot’s kick for good measure─

Oh, the pleasure of walking on ripe flesh─

Their uniforms and one-way visors obscuring 

The grimace of smiles or tears,

Cavalierly cramming bodies into vans,

The blank pages and posters so clearly readable,

Held over their heads for all to not read:

These white sheets of sleep, 

These blank breaths of declaration, 

These origami wings of white doves,

These raids on the unspeakable,

This strange snow that drifts deep

Over what can’t be spoken.

Walter Bargen has published 26 books of poetry including My Other Mother’s Red Mercedes (Lamar University Press, 2018), Until Next Time (Singing Bone Press, 2019), Pole Dancing in the Night Club of God (Red Mountain Press, 2020), You Wounded Miracle, (Liliom Verlag, 2021), and Too Late To Turn Back (Singing Bone Press, March 2023). He was appointed the first poet laureate of Missouri (2008-2009).