Angels of Light
by Nick Moss
Eichmann’s first day at the International Criminal Court
Checks his in-tray, prepares a list.
Sets down the journal he’s bought from Aspinalls.
Traces his fingers across the surface of the cover
The softness of full-grain leather.
Places the Montegrappa pen alongside. One of 888.
A limited edition. Where it came from, best not ask.
Stretches. Makes a fist. Straightens his hand again.
It may be a long day. He already hates the building.
All the pompous waffle about transparency,
Mosa Terra Maestricht tiles and a garden because
“Gardens are an element common to all cultures.”
It looks like a Dusseldorf shopping centre. Yet still
There is justice to allot. Opens the Rules
Of Procedure and Evidence on his screen.
Another Cape Town four seasons day.
Craig Williamson and Clive Derby-Lewis step out of their taxi
Having chosen to travel together to save on expenses.
Chair and vice-chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee
They are steeled for another day of trauma-sharing and
Reaching for those momentary possibilities of amnesty.
Clive left Walus at the hotel, discomfited by what he’d
Already heard about the lengths to which soldiers of the racial war
Would go to draw their sticky carmine lines between black and white.
Craig is stroking his grey goatee, remembers MLK’s sermon
About how we change society with forgiveness.
Clive, pensive, rubs absently at a blazer button.
He wonders how much of such horror his heart can hold.
His Citizen Force medal will serve to reinforce
His will at another day of urgent, vital unburdening.
Dr Sultan Ahmed Al Jaber unwinds in the December warmth.
Chairing the 28th meeting of the Conference of the Parties
Is no small thing. He’s already sent a letter to the Parties
Pledging that the Conference will be “a defining milestone
To accelerate action and deliver real results.” The international
Lexicon of shared non-commitment. As CEO of
The Abu Dhabi National Oil Company he hopes
The Parties will enjoy the 32-field flare-off he’s arranged
As a spectacular for them to see as they fly into Al-Bateen.
He fidgets the ADNOC insignia cufflink in the left sleeve
Of his white cotton Zegna shirt (worn instead of his thobe
To demonstrate easy familiarity and, he hopes, a beguiling openness).
Looks out at a sea of (how many was it? Check the list of passes)
Two thousand four hundred and fifty-six fossil fuel lobbyists.
Touches the bridge of his glasses. Smiles.
