The Storm Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

A big storm is hitting the eastern seaboard of North America,
it has just hit Cuba and other little island; fifty people killed,
but we didn´t get an intensive coverage as we get now.
By all means it is an immense storm and no doubt America feels
it doesn´t deserve this and there is no one to drones to attack
for this onslaught on Americas’ soil. Yes, we can build walls we
can built fortresses in the hope of being safe from the world,
but in the eye of a storm by nature or a storm caused by lack of
justice and freedom, the storm will be equally furious those
storms will, if we are lucky, clean our corrupt social system,
we call democracy- a practice that gives the right of the rich to
exploit the poor and obscenely try to make the neediest enjoy
slavery of being consumers, where going to the mall is highlight
of the week… Meanwhile the storm blows and if two tramps would
be killed or two seamen drown, every TV channel in the world will
record their demise and there will be a charity in their name;
“we shall not forget their suffering.” But as water retreats and
hamburger joints opens- The past, in our world, has no memory,
it is about mustard or ketchup; and it is quite easy really,
the red little bag is tomato ketchup and the yellow bag is mustard.