The Terrorist Impulse

April 26, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING, Poetry | 0 Comments |

(Governo da Grecia, 1920)

Can I be labeled pious,

Or a martyr, or a missionary,

Naive or just a fool,

If I cavil at the doings of a group of fat brigands?

Hoeing into goat at table,

Wiping mouths that dribble claret,

Hawking, grasping, clamoring,

Not washing their hands?

Does the innocent observer

Fall into the snare, enjoying feelings of contempt and loathing,

Wallowing in smugness,

Desperate to impose his disapproval and disgust?

Yes, enraged by the indifference

Of the gobbling hedonistic toughs

Who fail to heed the warning smoulder, he must.

One must.


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