Moving images of violence rolling on and on. Tears rolling down the brown dude’s powdered cheek. Tell me are they tears of empathy or tears of joy. Surely not of joy, you say. Okay, of empathy then. A creaking noise does come and dude jumps up and out. That’s a foxhole I see and you say it looks like a foxhole just to my eyes. Dude runs like hell, my heavens, shooting through his earholes and to the one who shoots through his nostrils dude plainly states he’s so very afraid. Afraid of what I say and look dude took a shot point-blank with his earholes but you say wasn’t the other guy taking shots with his nostrils.
Images of torture rolling on and on. Dude gets back to what looks like his foxhole tears rolling down his gun-powdered cheek. He’s a bombarding dude and he’s in a self-made prison, no? No, he’s a burdened dude who’s been indefinitely imprisoned, you say. It’s easy I say because without selective forgetting there’s no forgiving whatsoever. It’s hard you say and perhaps it looks easy just to me. There’s no context in here and this is a hell just like hell. Oh, I forget this is a heaven just like heaven is how you’d have it. Well, yes context is misinformation and we’re so very afraid you say. Afraid of what, no, I mean yes just very afraid I suppose. Didn’t you guys make deals with the devils? You mean the Americans and the Americanesque, right. Who doesn’t and why did we? My bad not the devils, no. The bombarded didn’t make that deal while they could’ve. But you’d say this is finding context, so would this too be misinformation.
Images of genocide rolling on and on. Tell me is this maya or what. No no no no no no no, this is the mother of all misinformation you say, yet you don’t look so much afraid to me as spiteful from what I can see but who am I to say you just don’t look all that afraid. It’s all in our head, no? And I forget all over again it’s just in my little head.
The creaking noise does come again. The burdened brown dude who shoots with his earholes shoots with his earholes once again the other who shoots with his nostrils and the bombarded brown dude who shoots with his nostrils shoots with his nostrils once again. Warring siblings with unique sensibilities in this tragic heaven just like hell, I say, wishing I hadn’t the slip of the tongue with siblings. Nothing sadder than seeing insurgents pushing the urbane toward humane strategies, you say, wishing you hadn’t the slip of the tongue with insurgents. Moving images of whatever rolling on and on.
Ahimaz Rajessh has been published in Occulum, Surreal Poetics, Cuento, 7×20, Jersey Devil Press, Jellyfish Review, Nanoism, Strange Horizons, Pidgeonholes, 200 CCs, Flapperhouse, Malaigal, Thalam, Manal Veedu, and Padhaakai. His writing is forthcoming in Milkfist, The Airgonaut, Liminality, and unFold. @ahimaaz be his twitter handle.