Poetry: “Historian”

Historian

 

There’s no doubt of what happened.

And that’s why they’re screaming their throats raw in the streets.

Under oath?

 

Would you say it under oath?

It’s a crime to lie.

Would you spread out the ink-stained archives? On a pulpit?

On a podium? Before God?

 

Will you crawl back into silence?

You’re a coward and a hero and someone someday will decide for us.

 

And your obituary will be a collection of headlines.

 

You should be grateful.

They used to stone witches.

 

It’s a dangerous time.

It’s an electronic war.

Look at them. In the streets.

 

You are too vicious.

You are too weak.

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