Did hands in white gloves bring forth Retro
When A.C.S spread open her legs to be aborted of cancer?
The answer, they say is
hushed by the blasting thunder of silvery-clouds.
WHO will ever know?
Flashes of blinding lightening turns pieces of truth into theories of conspiracy
WHO can see and tell of what hides behind dark clouded skies?
Stars fall, blood spills, horizontally and
eagles cry over what may have been agreed at the world population conference in Bucharest.
Gay men of Manhattan, lab rats of the time
Oh, surrogate fathers of the Retro embryo
WHO will cry for you?
When the beats of the burgeoning population of the third world sounded,
they used you to try out their genius solution.
WHO will cry for you, when sounds of silence rise over these theories shattered in pieces?
Was one lab rat enough?
Did they think of Africa and say, ‘Ahah!
they too? They grow and rise in regal aura
this will hold them back.
This should hold them back! ’ Did they?
Well, WHO knows?
No, they did not have a toothbrush mustache
They had smiley faces and Medic-packs of small pox vaccines
But our holocaust began after their vaccine injections
WHO Knows if those small pox vaccines where small pox vaccines?
The black genome soon became a new womb for the Retro embryo
Oh, how Africa bubbles in the hot pot of soup that death sips.
They say ‘Tetrasil’ was locked away perhaps to be released
when graves have eaten to their full and tears have flooded the
Cape of Good Hope.
WHO knows why Retro blossoms in Africa?
Stars fall, blood spills, horizontally
and an eagle cries. But we may just let this sleep away with dark history,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.