he spoke in broken words,
an anxious monologue
of guilt confessed and expiation…

me, numbed by the encounter,
and cast reluctant confessor
of an ordinary monster

who committed such
unordinary acts
of blind obedience,

setting ablaze an entire village
with gasoline words ignited
by fists of flame,

and in the name of Great,
of Better…of fear.
And now he can’t get loose,

cannot silence from
his mind the screams
of those people.  Them.

Now on a deathbed
of his own design
and no good sense

to even lay down
and be still, a last
desperate attempt

to seek forgiveness
and what am I supposed
to say to this displacement,

this horrifying displacement?