First, sugar was banned,
then salt.
We didn’t raise our voices in dissent—
“a step toward better health,”
nodding in agreement, we said.

Next came the ban on coffee—
The aroma of pleasure was snuffed out.
Then the ban on conscience followed,
but who was left with it?
We held discussions, but since
we shared the same opinion,
remained united in silence.

Then, with a sudden decree,
chocolate was outlawed,
and happiness too,
and quite soon,
smoothly
followed the prohibition of
relatives,
friends,
sex,
movies,
the drinks we shared,
poetry, wandering through the evening,
laughter and sorrow,
gathering in the town square.

And I was not at all surprised when
the declaration came for me:
I was to be banned.
“Cease your presence!” was the command.
And yet,
as I remained,
I was stripped of my first name
and last name,
leaving me to drift as nobody
in a land named
   nothing.