Photo: Rohini Kejriwal
The country sold forgiveness last night 5 cents a pardon, A boondoggle that didn’t buy happiness, But brought a little less pain. The country razed its saddest tales last night Reduced them to ashes Leaving cinder shades on boulevards Only few had ever witnessed.
The country stripped its sweetest songs last night
Placed the tunes in coffins of gold,
Covered them with shrouds of silver
With nothing left to struggle for.
The country watched sculptures last night Descend from pedestals tall, And fill the quiet of caesuras For they no longer harbored icicle hearts.
The country dusted languages last night Off its thighs onto palms of wind They now heal faces of volumes untouched And walls that belong to history.