Dallas
Dallas, you are back again
But do you recall that day?
Do you remember a roofless?
A car driving on your street?
And the people massing on its sides?
And a young good-looking president?
And his Jacqueline; model?
And their driving by…?
And the sound of gun?
Do you still think of that day?
The brain splashed, flying away?
By a bullet of the gun…
And arrests and killings then-after?
Oswald…Cold war…And the gun…?
And the poor needy having to sacrifice
And having to pay the price?
Oh how I feel them all
In my veins and in my blood
And the time I was there
Large houses and the hearts
Flavoured with oil
And redneck-ism and racism and…
And now…
We hear the words around…
And the cloud of deaths and blood…
What is there to say?
The best for this boiling kettle is
A lid, tightened…lips sealed…blinded the eyes…
This is how they treat the garlic in the vinegar…
Yes I claim to be a poet…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem