COMRADE FIRST STREET Poem by Julius Chingono
COMRADE FIRST STREET
It was you
who I abhor
Comrade First Street
whose battles are fought
in your mouth
And whose strategies
are mapped on your face.
You talk of arms of war
with all your might
like a firing bazooka.
You repeat the name AK47
Like a burst of rounds
but when the police arrive
you jam
like a rusty FN rifle.
Thursday, April 12, 2018
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4/19/2024 4:07:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
