Sunday, February 14, 2016

Valentine ditty


My heart is a Molotov cocktail,
Fuelled by climate change and oil wars,
With a dash of paraffin from shack fires
And the ridiculous number of bricks
in a rich suburb’s garden walls
is the grit that makes it spread and stick.
The mouth of the bottle is stoppered 
with every word swallowed
pretending not to hear the catcalls.
The air gap at the top 
to keep it explosive
is all the breathing, stopped
by another racist cop.
Dear people,
My heart is a Molotov cocktail, 
And it’s just waiting for all of yous
To rise up and light the fuse. 

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