No
by David Chorlton
It happens without explanation
that you are born in a particular place
at a particular time
when truth must be imagined
because nobody speaks it out loud
so you begin
to act against the state,
desire overcomes you
for inaccessible lovers,
sleep becomes more real
than wakefulness,
the law is helpless
to stop your mind from taking over
all you see, the church
cannot make you confess
without smiling
and when the anthem is played
you remain seated despite
the camera positioned above your chair
recording every move.
Of course the authorities claim you.
They cannot help themselves;
with hands over their hearts
they wait for the music to end
before starting the interrogation.
Whatever they ask
the answer is no.
Your name is No.
Your country of residence is No.
Your profession is No.
Let them produce a story to explain you.
They always have.
It happens without explanation.
First GRIST On-Line publication, December, 1996.
© 1996 David Chorlton