Marian Shinn

Doors to Destroy

Solid doors, built to overawe and imprison,
opening only to engorge children into a red-bricked abyss.
Sucking them in from their carefree open spaces.
Spitting them out – broken or duplicitous – at the final bell.
Black metal trunks, owners stencilled in white,
lugged by black men in white tunics up red-polished stairs
to rows of mosquito-net shrouded beds in pastel-walled dormitories.
Hawked over by Victorian spinsters, spewing colonialist bile,
shaping, paring, twisting young lives into acquiescence for peace’s sake.
Watched by silent black men—patient, biding their time,
waiting for life to re-assemble on the far side of shattered doors.

Waiting for life to re-assemble on the far side of shattered doors.
Watched by silent black men—patient, biding their time.
Shaping, paring, twisting young lives into acquiescence for peace’s sake,
hawked over by Victorian spinsters, spewing colonialist bile.
To rows of mosquito-net shrouded beds in pastel-walled dormitories,
lugged by black men in white tunics up red-polished stairs,
black metal trunks, owners stencilled in white.
Spitting them out – broken or duplicitous – at the final bell.
Sucking them in from their carefree open spaces.
Opening only to engorge children into a red-bricked abyss –
solid doors, built to overawe and imprison.
 

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