Wednesday, January 7, 2015

fundamentalist blues

i watched you hold the severed head of a so very young girl
by her hair and scream into a camera your rage and contempt
but you also looked excited
by the carnage, the scent of blood in the air.
it gave you righteous indignation
and a reason to unleash your own destructions.
i wondered if you would treat the meat
of your son’s body in the same way
or if you would cloak and shield his hideousness
and hold him tenderly with deference.
a woman in your world may be a martyr
but will she ever have your respect

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