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Warszawa
Bird bodies in balls,
Lint from a vaccum bag,
Lie restly in gutters.
Gutters,
with the pavement and road,
like varying degrees of ash,
swept maticulous, Japanese gardens,
by old men in worker caps.
Above,
copper statues green,
skin, something maritine and sunken,
in pose for victory long forgotten,
built to watch this city rot.
This is the monument built on top of the holocaust museum.
I think this is the most depressing place I’ve ever been to.
Haven’t been to Auschwitz yet though.
