Some of them remember Soviet
strafing, an updated
Blitzkrieg menace, followed by
Taliban 'liberation', from foxhole/tomato plant
provisions, up to
a flameless pit & burqa'd subjugation.
Up from the pit & into the
kitchen, the street &
schools, but conspicuously absent from
the nightly news, the
View &
Oprah's book club. More
savvy than a party
planner, stronger
than a gold medalist, stomping barefoot on
spiders, rats & epidemic
malnutrition, still
no match for
that burqa called studio censorship.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem