The Zeppelin Field at Nurnberg

Rollerbladers cocooned
in earphones occupy the site.

A photographer busily shoots
a lanky, posing model

sporting a clear and extravagant
tattoo. I shoot them

from overhead; from the platform
where the Führer

and his industrious cronies stood
and spoke, were photographed.

A creative break from my own
taking in of the expansive scale.

Like miniature, the imagination
creates vastness. Millions

snapped their crisp salutes
like guillotines. The result

of the romantic
madness still hangs

profound and murderous
in the air: train cars, camps,

sequentialling tattoos, gas,
and reels of propaganda.

Swans glide and dip between
the dark silhouettes of trunks;

the sky and pond are
opalescent. Hardly concealed

systemic cruelty contains
the urban Turkish neighborhoods

not far away. Let the concrete edges
of this field continue to crumble.

We’re thirsty. Time to drive back
to the power station building—

Source of light, to make
transparent part of what it was

that was being ambitiously
designed, stoked, and rallied.

I will cajole someone to take
a series of photographs of me

posing outside the converted
plant. Me: sated, victorious

and mocking; a ridiculous,
cheesy pin-up model—

the latest to strut and plug
for the kingdom of fast food.

Scott Hightower is the author of three books. This fall, Self-Evident, his fourth collection stateside, is forthcoming from Barrow Street Press. Early next year, Oases/Hontanares, a bi-lingual book, is forthcoming from Devenir, Madrid. Hightower teaches as adjunct faculty at NYU and Drew University. A native of central Texas, he lives in Manhattan and sojourns in Spain.