Tongue of Fire
His uncouth tongue spits fire,
Then it spits petrol inflaming the fire
Encircling our enclave.
His tongue unearths ghosts,
Bitter ghosts roving
In yesteryears’ graveyards.
They did not die in peace,
They would not rest in peace.
So they angle for war.
Yet, citizens crave his tongue.
‘Speak to us,’ they scream.
And when he does,
His tongue threatens genocide,
Awakens revisionists scavenging
Dustbins for discarded morsels of history
To feed their nihilistic appetite.
This fire, if unquenched,
Will leave no one unscathed.
Beautifully done. Very powerful commentary on the human condition. Open to a fair amount of interpretation, yet on point. Sadly spot on and very timely
Very many thanks, Mark Lucker. Your kind commentary is highly appreciated. I couldn’t complete the marathon, so I feel sad. I will do better next year, hopefully.