L'aura del Campo

[39] untitled anti-colonial rant 24 lines

So much remains taboo in the post-British-colonial world. The Puritans and Victorians ... left a legacy of joyless rules.

Do I write a poem about sex? Do I write one without limpid rhymes? Is ghastly good enough?

We mixed black and brown and white,
added red and yellow,
painted with our multi-colored palette
to piss over your inhumanity,
your insistence that you were better.

We mangled Shakespeare's plays,
strangled Lord What's-his-face's poems,
as we dared to question
your ignoble history of death,
replaced it with our vibrant colors.

You were never better than we were:
your polluted water made us ill,
your piss perfume hid your fetid odor,
your glee angered us as you killed
anyone who stood in your way.

You stole our language
left us with this bastard tongue
of commerce, pride and treachery.
We want our love back,
our lullabys of bounteous lands and seas.
We beg you go back to where you belong.

You stole our culture,
peace and harmony
and left us fish and chips.

[39]

24 lines ... so far.