The young riders whooping in triumph,
Their prisoner dragged along the ground;
Torture’s trophy in a trail of dust,
Amidst the hammering of hooves
And the beating of bloodlust.
But this is a modern scene:
With two or three riders per motorcycle;One fires a pistol into the sky
Whilst another films the job,
Amidst the roaring engines
And the baying of the mob.
Nothing new under this sun:
No middle ground in the
Merely the timelessness of terror
Played out over ancient territory,
Amidst the yammering of religions
And the raising of torture’s trophy.
(2012)
No comments:
Post a Comment