Gulag Soundscape

I

The merciless grind of the motors that drive the rotating guillotines above

Gunshots in the wispy wind as the writing is on the wall

Ethereal sparks from throats on fire escalate, recede, escalate again

The damned propaganda Machine fervently holds Mass

II

Recess
Blink and miss it
Forget about food
Relieve
Clean up
Get back
Look around
Most are elsewhere

God Bless 'em

They return
Boisterous
Vibrant with life
Talking slander and loving it
Energized
They Enter
Glimpse forward
At the Machine
See evil
See their fate
Shoulders drop
Eyes drop down
Drained souls
Dead

III

The Booms echo far as the Squeaks of the feet of the Hustlers' become louder as they attempt to outfox the Markers and make the Score under the leaking roof

The clang of the plate on wood as the Catch of the day is served and pounced upon by the Starving while the Wasted entertain the Smoke amidst the jingle of round metal scrape of cotton fibre

The doppelered high F and the atonal rumbling of the Choo Choo as it passes by heading Southward towards the rain clouds and the future and a world devoid of chains and nooses and shackles made for the Soul