Thanks Mark. Yes, it is a bit of a literary device in the way it creates 'gut punch' impact but it is honestly also just the truth of the physical action I was taking while walking around Birkenau.

But, having said all that I was aware when I was writing the poem toward the end that it needed something to drive home the level of fundimental inhuman, alien atrocity that Aushwitz is, and the memory of my breakfast Twix came flooding back. The normalness of the Twix just helps to elivate the deeply tragic images in the previous lines. This poem is the first piece of writing in a long time that had me welling up while I was writing it and when reading it back again now. I may perform it at a poetry night here in Liverpool.

Thanks for the feedback. It means a lot