of Japanese soldiers all coiled up
in throes of radioactive agony
Hid away in the doors and windows
Fell asleep in the dust
Of old forgotten battles
It sounds like “run run run”.
I think of the cats,
Walking thin parapets with ease
Till a man breaks in and
There is need for protection,
The spikes of glass on their paws leave
Yowls and prints of blood that
The next shower of rain swallows.
The bullets lying in evidence lockers
Bent out of shape from the force
It needed, to release the soul
Seeping out of closets, blood
All seven colors in the disco lights.
Every action has an equal and
Opposite for hate, was never
Answered with hate, it was only
Retaliated with tears, candle wax
Pictures, all ghosts, actions
Whose most immediate reaction
Was borne by a brass bullet
Hideously bent out of shape.
Formed out of gunshot wounds,
Flowers will bloom in riots of colour
Of solidarity and human chains till,
Till the marches end and the day is done
The coffins lay cold, futile.
Cats again, giving birth every six months
Half the dew eyed kittens dying,
I think of paws bleeding under glass shards
The picket fences of hate and mistrust
We needed closets, we needed burqas,
And fairness creams, don’t forget that.
We needed to hide for what can you do
Against one man with a gun?
What can you do when the consequences of man
Are borne by metal shells that
Get lodged in the hearts, arms and legs
That are identical to the one who is firing.
We might as well stand before mirrors,
And slit the throats of our reflections,
(Human==white && genitals==penis && desire==women)
system.out.print “God loves you.”;
system.out.print “Nigger, slut, faggot, God hates you.”