Hindenburgstraße 8 Poem by Leo Yankevich

Hindenburgstraße 8



What German family must have once lived here?
Built in ’32, the building’s façade
was freshly made, the face of every god
and angel brand new. Nowadays they sneer,

looking out sooty niches, ears and noses
riddled by history and acid rain.
Wort and stinkweed prosper where once roses
brushed against each crystal window pane.

The name is ul. Konarskiego now,
although the unkempt building still speaks German.
Inside the tenants’ children do not ask how
as late at night the floorboards creak, and vermin

crawl the crevices and climb the walls.
The progeny of Slavs are not the same.
The ouster lasts, another system falls,
the vanquished having vanished with their name.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: war
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Leo Yankevich

Leo Yankevich

Farrell, Pennsylvania
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