An ordinary day (poem written on a plane)


to the sound

of Frank Sinatra

The slit


of Abu Ghraib

the way they hang

and slice the throats

of pigs

at slaughterhouses

and then we eat

the blood turned black

the sweet warm blood

of men

and not

of pigs

What kind of people are we

that we cannot stop this

And votes are binned

in Haiti

that´s what we think

of the decision of the people

we let it rot

the precious voice

with yesterday´s leftovers

and the rats

some dump in Port au Prince

The blood of four children

on their way to school

in Fadel, Baghdad

a quiet


What good was it

for the mother

to scream to the winds

of the West and East

after blood was shed

and the Hope was dead

“we know nothing of politics”

“we are simple people”

“we know nothing

of politics”

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