Behold A Son Of Revolution! Poem by Joschua Beres

behold a son of revolution!
by Joschua Beres

behold a son of revolution! - gaunt, half-smiling face
showing yellowed teeth.

over his forehead a dirty red bandage,
his swollen belly a feast for parasitic worms,
his breath like acid splatters in translation
about falling rockets, a wailing mother
and a baby sister weeks dead, left like smashed insects
in the crater of his former home.

the faded banners of protest reflect back
from grungy streets
in the broken crescents of his tired eyes.

he is unable to hold his skinny arms up high
they help him for the cameras,
parade him like some found prize
for western amusement reduced to a two minute clip.

he looks through my 36 inch flat screen, in high definition,
across my apartment into my couch cradled soul
a sickly bird trying to fly from the ranting mobs
the blood
the mortars.

This aborted child of the Arab Spring.