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Take it or leave it... (141 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 0.5 on 3 reviews (Rate this item) (V)

Submitted by briokid911.at.hotmail.com (View user info) at 2008-01-29 02:29:42 EST

Rustamayah
Dust settling on the red freezing morning
And the sheep are bleating in the market
As herders chop the limbs off their brothers
Right before their dumb marble eyes.
Emaciated brown children staring and laughing with
Black ringed hollow faces
Careening between traffic on homemade scooters,
Coming close enough to the truck to sight up.
"You almost died just now,"
I yell at them as they extend their middle fingers at the muzzle.
Smells of burning tires, smoldering flesh.
Ozone smells, burning hair and brimstone.
Women with beautiful eyes peeking up and darting away.
"You're not allowed to look at the men in uniform."
Sickly sirens howl over the wailing prayers
That float out of the city's loudspeakers
All hours of the day and night.
Shells of men huddle around burning trash cans,
Smoking cigarettes atop destroyed tanks.
The way their eyes follow you down the filthy street
You feel like a shower afterward.
And every passing car a potential suicide,
Every crying child covered in dynamite,
Every donkey cart that is plodding down the dirt road
Is filled with gasoline,
Waiting to ignite.
The sewage leaking into the alleyways
Is still more appealing than this smell,
This wail, these horrified looks on the faces of the mothers
Whose child I am sighting up.
These sheep bleating and this dust settling on this red morning sun.
The road to Rustamayah

User Reviews

Submitted by Socialist_Joe (user info) at 2008-01-29 02:49:31 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

i retract

blah

Submitted by Socialist_Joe (user info) at 2008-01-29 02:35:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

meh

Submitted by Linus (user info) at 2008-01-29 02:31:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

+2 Poetry surge.