1 minute read

HIS TRIUMPHANT GRIN

Next Article

from On Dit - Vol.90 Issue 1 , page 35

Article from: On Dit - Vol.90 Issue 1
PREDICTING SA’S STATE ELECTION

Words by Dante Siliquini

When I could see I saw the world for its simple beauties The morning dew in the grassy fields My father’s youthfulness yet aged face My mother’s clasped hands when she prayed The lovers my brother would bring home And his triumphant grin

When I could see I saw the world for its spectacle My father consoling my mother Masses of cheering people White haired generals saluting Streets filled with banners The uniform my brother wore And his triumphant grin

When I could see but did not wish to look I saw the world for its vileness Depraved officers Saints torn from alters Boys gouged by bayonets Legless men dragging themselves Bloated corpses sinking in mud The trench my brother charged into And his blood-soaked uniform His triumphant grin Empty

This article is from:
Cover of "On Dit - Vol.90 Issue 1 "

On Dit - Vol.90 Issue 1

by On Dit