Of the Misanthrope

As I walked across the street
Towards the target area my legs wobbled
Yet I knew I have to shoot
Clenched fist inside the pocket
Sad memories on the mind
Angry clouds across the neighbourhood
While the metal bruised my groin
And penalty or impunity didn’t count
I took my weapon out
Loaded with secret mystical powers
And I fired point blank
And I fired one thousand times
Through the unfeeling hearts
Through the unthinking heads
Through the untouchable bodies
of pain of violence of injustice
of blood of bullets of bombs
of dishonesty of greed of unholy desires
of a fucking society of fucked-up people
of government of authority
of money launderers of land dealers
of religion of tradition of convention
And I felt like the ibises
Near Langol I had seen them
As pure white as they can be
Against the blue and green mountains
I felt like them I felt so happy
For the unwanted are no more
And I wrote an obituary for the scums
And the papers I shred them and set them ablaze