The Oppression Poem by jan hansen

the oppression


The town's sewer pipe ends in the middle of a fjord
a gray mass slowly dispersing forever into blue
water like a sin forgiven after Sunday's mass.
When the last sheep was bought into the abattoir
it didn't resist as the sheep had already died a
thousand times, a bullet from the slaughter- gun
a slit throat, its blood into a vessel and stirred
blood dumpling on Thursday.
Death was turned into a Sunday roast with mint sauce
A Palestinian youth, bare-chested, faced the enemy
a shot, several shots, he fell into the road-dust and
became a sixteen-year-old martyr.