LET’S SEE WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE WORLD

Let’s see what is going on in the world,

my father would say

every evening at eight,

his voice a sigh of resignation

as the white dot in the centre of the television

turned into images

of skeletal children

and resigned mothers

with death in their eyes.

And I peeked over cushions,

Scared to meet their gaze.

I no longer use cushions –

the news is everywhere.

And my soul screams with fury

At the perpetual vomitorium of evil and insanity,

At the bullshitters in designer suits

Who not only choose not to feed

Skeletal children

And resigned mothers

With death in their eyes,

But sell the bombs

And bullets to kill them, too.

But I believe in retribution,

In names never forgotten,

In justice – slow, limping,

Yet certain

As the turning earth.