You were once an overseer
of starving women and children behind wires
walking with their bones bursting out of their skins
stench of burning flesh blending
with the sacred smoke of incense
on every mass held by every priest.

You stay while all are gone
standing still here while all are lost
still looking, still listening
you overseer of forgotten souls
your four corners still intact
as if the dead you mock.

And yet I see your sad windows
tired eyes to the past
tired eyes to things we haven’t seen
things we hope we’ll never see.

Why are you still here?
When will you join the thousand souls
that once walked inside your walls?

You Baker Hall
Oh, most enduring
of all the monsters built
on my mother’s bosom.