Wild Court

An international poetry journal based in the English Department of King’s College London

‘Yakov in Space’: a poem by Isabelle Thompson

Yakov in Space

Stalin sent his eldest son from his first marriage to fight on the front lines during World War Two. Yakov was captured by the Germans. Despite three proposed deals to release him, Stalin left him in the camp where Yakov eventually died.

Father, it is cold above
the Earth, in the vacuum
of your omni-absent love.

I float in the frigid sky,
sending you these messages
and getting no reply.

The stars are barbed wire
needling the heavens.
Some say I fell under fire,

others that I ran, collided
with the electric fence.
I say that I am so high,

so distant, that no one
can know for certain
whether it was by gun

or voltage that I died.
When I was young,
and desperate, I tried

to shoot myself in the heart.
He can’t even shoot straight,
you said, and the words were a dart

that pierced me
deeper than any bullet.
Only now do you see me

and say I was a real man.
I am held at a steely distance.
In my celestial absence you can

praise me. The Earth spins,
shows me the dark side
of her face. No one wins.


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