Interrogation

Light that looks at me over its eyes. Light that darkens my eyes. Light that comes from your book, and my light turns it into shadow. Words fly, but without response. Chains that transcend from the fathers. Father who cast roots into the well of his love so the weak could emerge. Hand raised, and his cheeks full of calluses. Mother only complains about the father who does nothing. Commands and discriminates, sends to work. She praises those who have more, and discards those who have less. From her mouth different teeth emerge, diverse like colors, Yet even so, she does not stop her infernal torrent. Shovelful after shovelful, Cut after cut, Like hot water to my memory, And autumn for the squirrels. The silence continues, Only I hear the screams.