I watched Battle for Algiers last night and wrote this just now.
Eyes
Blood-let
the color in your eyes.
Switch on a fuzzy gel —
Anything to
diffuse
filter
Pour out the rageful, beating heart.
Must they be military drums hammering in your mind?
the pulses of all the dusty, limp arms pertruding from the rubble:
hairs on a scalp.
The smell of burning flesh cooking,
the main course for the victors.
Please.
When you have let go to grasped a few seconds,
and noticed the rain,
the drums fading out, replaced by sopranos wailing dirges,
maybe then will the intoxication finally fall like a white curtain,
letting you
see.
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