Their guilt

is not so very different from ours:

—who has not joyed in the arbitrary exercise of
power

or grasped for himself what might have been
another’s

and who has not used superior force in the
moment when he could,

(and who of us has not been tempted to these
things?)--

so, in their guilt,

the bare ferocity of teeth,

chest-thumping challenge and defiance,

the deafening clamor of their prayers

to a deity made in the image of their prejudice

which drowns the voice of conscience,

is mirrored our predicament

but on a social, massive, organized scale

which magnifies enormously

as the private dehabille of love

becomes obscene in orgies.


© Dennis Brutus

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