Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com
After Israa al-Ghomgham
I recall the solitary scarlet flower I took apart as a child
standing out from a gilded vase of flowers boasting their erect penises.
I recall ripping off its head and a red fragrant spray waxing my fingers.
Standing in the crime scene accused I blamed it on my brother.
I vividly remember how a snail left a silver road to where it rested in peace,
it was in my nature to interrupt that calmness and end its life with my shoe.
I recall the gold of its guts and the sound of an insignificant thunder,
that night I felt so bad that I watched them in the rain drag home to burials.
As a boy, I remember having no interest in the colours and meanings of flags,
except for one in blue-collars who hoisted me up to the proud…
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reubenwoolley 