He fills, with pink, polluted dregs,
a yellow plastic can, and Lake Muhazi
fills again with water bleeding through
its pot-shot bullet holes.
With innocent disgust, ignores,
offshore, the bleached and, face-down,
bloated corpse that floats as lumber.
Five or six gun-rattling years of age,
he is spilling rivers from a perforated can,
dripping trails of pink, polluted dregs
along a path to where his parents sleep.
And Lake Muhazi weeps for him through
bullet holes, not able to revive a withered
lip or draw a tear from unblinking eyes.
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Comments about this poem (Rwanda 1994 by Brian Wake )
- Love for OLUEBUBE, Saturday Chikezie Promise
- Broken Dreams, Saturday Chikezie Promise
- My mattress, Nassy Fesharaki
- أولوية, مالك حداد
- Finding Self, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- سأهبك غزالة, مالك حداد
- To my one and only (April 3,2014), Didith Marcelo
- de compras, Von Kimball Barney
- المهمة التي أنجزت, مالك حداد
- سأهبك الشاطئ, مالك حداد
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