For workers in China’s Human Transplant Industry where People are Killed for their Organs in State-sanctioned Hospitals
Inside the clanging gates of the hospital,
the new, expanded transplant wing, the nurse,
whose eyes are sunken and responsible,
twists round and makes her family car reverse.
She parks … Shady branch-held leaves hold still …
The hooded, hard-worked engine waves its haze.
Her palm-push slams the door. Cold and ill,
the anchored strain’s been pulling over days.
Not to know was bliss. To add up flaws
was sick. Now unambiguous facts are rife,
she curdles. Smelling disinfected floors
won’t mop her mind. She’s sure she’s taking life.
This theft, her work, should stop. But who to trust
to take where vacant carcasses combust?