Rwanda
This is rather dark. I wrote it after watching a documentary about the Rwandan genocide.Her fingers look just like the charred stumps of driftwood used to poke the fire while we huddle and laugh and one-up each other’s jokes
four charred thick stubs of driftwood sticking up from her hand
black blood trickles out
Satan’s piss
He is pissing on us all we who sit
and observe and analyze and maybe even cry
my isn’t that awful
isn’t that important
isn’t that devastatingly weighty I cannot comprehend that our governing bodies were not there to do something because they could have
he is pissing on us all and laughing
in our comfortable dens with aural soundscapes pulsing from our top of the line sound systems
soothing our wrecked narcissistic souls
I just feel awful, don’t you feel awful?
ensconced in my fortress
adorned with books and flyers berating the diabolical powers that allowed this to happen in order that I might be safe and secure
He is pissing on us all—syrup trickling from the stumps of a lucky girl's hands
Do not fuck with me—oh, no. My sliced heart will hack you the second my fortress dissolves
I am right there slicing away from the comfort of my own living room
I too can summon up neither tears nor shame
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