Dulce bellum inexpertis

I am a terrorist
my beard is dark
it wears shards of red
of blood, of lies
and cries

I am a criminal
my skin is dark,
freckles on my back
form a map
not to the stars
but way back
there in the hollow lands
of solitude and lice

I am a racist
with white, perfect teeth
I am loved by all
but my closest ones

I am gay, a drama-queen
almost a woman–
never in love
I just fuck, and fuck, and fuck

I am a stereotype
dying of aids, I am
unrespected, I am a woman
a father, unrecognised
I am flying away
in a trip of fluttering lights

I am dark, brown,
white, freckled
I’ve fur, claws:
I am a monster

I am a mother
my father
eyes of green,
yet they are blue
black, grey,
they are my grandmother’s

I am a cheater
a husband late again,
unfaithful believer
that all that is done
in love
is done well

I am a narcissist
a difficult word
to swallow, I am a cry
in a plane–
a swimmer flying overboard

I am a plane-crash
a car colliding
freezing rain collecting debts
I am a hurricane
a saviour, a man

I am a murderer
my mind is tired
of waiting, of expecting
someone to populate it
once again

I am a killer
of ideas, I am alcohol
a dreamer of love
teary eyes and runny nose:
I am a liar

I am a terrorist
I shatter words, I am
God, human, imperfect
Death, a retold Oppenheimer
I am challenged
by a lack of words,
lack of worlds to destroy

Photo credit: © Stuart Palley

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