Extreme Right or Wrong
They
gathered with weighty stones in ham fists,
With petrol
bitter all along sour tongues,
With words
made incendiary by deep wrongs,
And eyes
blindfolded with flags that insist
Upon such
myopic obedience
To the
visceral, that’s so black and white
Consideration
for colour is sleight
At best,
when outrage remains too intense.
Meanwhile
the vision of those leading the blind
Along their
dead-end path is all too clear,
They have
power in sight, the power of fear,
Preaching
the past as the future’s declined.
First there’s
anger, but that moment will pass
Until the
next night of breaking glass.
D. A.
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