top of page
for (the comfortable)
forgive them my countrymen
they know not what they do
they hold their heavy tongues
they bind their brothers up
forgive them my countrywomen
they know not what they are
they hold their breath within them
and so become their scars
forsake the politician
he breaks the devil’s bread
lays waste to the god within us
takes shape in graves our beds
unmake them the eye-cast cowards
in shadows who took no sides
re-cast their spines in metal
and so let burnished rise
wake now you latent angels
take place at swelling front
no time for fear of retribution
knee deep in our brothers’ blood
knee deep in our sisters’ blood
knee deep in our children’s blood
bottom of page