The agonizes of my nation
Are shadows, not heartshakening issues.
So I will not talk about them.

I will sing only of the glories
I will talk about the other things;

I will sing about the citizens'
ribs painted out by foodlessness,
Citizens' eyes zipped for phobia of
witnessing wind scattered shells
penetrating human flesh.

I will talk only about
the missing lives, exiled pens,
Lone red tops feasted on by maggots,
Some trapped behind bars,
And the other mewed like dogs.

So I will not talk about them,
How can we we lament these things
without rivers streaming down our cheeks,
Anger piled and buried in our hearts ?
Nowonder, we are tongue-tied.

These are tipsy sights
That flog my eyes when I sip.