a poem for the 35

de ludoglobi


 

there’s a lot of blood and tea

in this night of Cairo

 

cups of hope,

cups of death

 

in Tahrir Square,

death has no hands, it just

lingers like a snake

 

but nobody fears here about it:

this snake can’t swallow

people’s feelings

 

their bodies

like a flying carpet to liberty

 

night will come soon with bullets

and tear gas: the ugly food

of monsterous sphinxes

 

but everybody is sipping

freedom here

22.11.2011

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