En Masse

The lye has worn off, and it no longer burns

Here nobody’s shaken and nobody’s brave

Here eyes are all open, but none of them turn

 

As usual, encumbered by torsos and thighs

There’s nothing to do, and no way to get out

Here everything’s silent, and nobody cries

All arms, in this darkness, are pinioned by doubt

 

Rehearsing the methods, I hope to get free

Debatable sunlight has broken the ground

It’s progress by regress, divided by me

I cannot distinguish the crack in the round

 

 I try to remember who put me here last

The name I was given and role I was cast