Pandora's curiosity didn't just do her in It dug a cesspool for the whole human race For what flew out After the locust swarm of ills Was not a ray of salvation As that wretched woman supposed But the worst scourge Of all – hope!
He swallowed bullets,
A whole lung full of them. And
He got written about
In the national dailies.
All of twenty seven
Years old with an old father
You talk of hatred, bullets, bombs
and bad memories. Here
we inherit these things
from our fathers and mothers, who
in turn inherited them from theirs and sometimes their uncles and aunts too. For generations now we have fought to retain what is ours. We are the terrorists, anti-nationalists and even petty thieves and murderers. When our families find our dead and mutilated bodies, they do the last rites in secrecy and honor us as martyrs and heroes as best as they can.
Our brother's come home
let us rejoice. He has come bearing unwrapped gifts and untold stories while we circle around him like a chant.