The Greenline

shirt’s riding up, again, exposing
a naked onion belly to the harshhumming
of metro lights. here i don’t have
an audience, other than the harshhummingmetrolights.
as a result i begin to lose track of my

present character choice. the lights
are still there, watching— i pull
down my incorrigible outerskin (i believe
i asked a grade school teacher what
incorrigible meant, at one time— i believe
she told me it was what little boys
are. this memory may or may not

have been part of a book or
movie). hitler liked male architecture, no
curves. after building the große halle
did he plan on levelling the alps, just to
keep things balanced? at belzec

the jews got off the train. at charlevoix
metro station people got off the train
heading east. most, probably, went home,
it nearing two am and all. at lionel-groulx
i went east when i should of gone west,
and only stopped to notice three stops
too late. now, while most people have
probably gone home, i wait for godot

to come rescue me, in train form
preferably. just outside of berlin
there is monument to the jews
who got off the train. an empty platform
and an out-of-commission stretch

of railway, with countlessly countable jewish
names engraved onto the tracks. at belzec
the jews got off the train, and were asked to tie
their shoes together (to make them easier
to find later, they were told), and throw them into
pyramid pile. later-later, naked and aware that a
nazi would soon probably be wearing her shoes,
their shoes, jewish shoes, Sarah turned to her brother

Abraham and kissed his lips: “they never fitted you
properly, anyways,” she laughed
as the line began to get shorter and
the completely tiled room closer. a metro
employee in a uniform one or two sizes too small

trespasses the fourth wall, ‘je
m’excuse cherie, mais la dernier metro a
deja passé,’ she says, smiles, and ascends
the stairs. i sigh, collect my things,
adjust my incorrigible shirt (which
is probably one or two sizes too small), shove
my feet into awkward shoes and ascend
the stairs. in the showers as the tiles began to

press in against people and gas, people climbed
over each other, attempting to escape. when
the proctors went in, later-later-later, they
no longer stood in awe of the jewish testament
to a pharaoh longpassed. “every time,” mumbled one,

two nodded as three and four began to move bodies.