on crooked swastikas in my garden flowers grow

a man lives between cracks in the floor
of an abandoned shoe factory

there is no way of knowing how he got there
one day he opened his eyes
and there he was
stuck in this dark, decaying space

from this dusty fortress he watches
how everything falls into nothing
how every moment, every second
whole world disappears* screaming in terror

and yet it doesn't help at all
for no matter how many executions you witness
you are never ready for your own

*or perhaps not, sometimes he wonders
in moments of terrible fear
perhaps it's just another lie
so many lies already in the open, why not one more?
for maybe there is no nothing
maybe there is just everything
stuck eternally in one horrible moment