Friday, 6 August 2010

First Flag

that first dragon was
a ribbon of blood;

that first grass was
a river of mud;

that first sky
was a streak of spit;

that first flag
was a wound just split;

the first men who hauled it
tore it out their gaping hearts;

the first wives who wore it
bore it from their just-raped parts;

the bastard child
of love and hate

that first flag
was hard as slate

a kite's sharp beak

a harp's wild shriek

a brittle tongue

a battle won -

like coal it burned
it had no choice

that flag was birthed
because no voice

was ours

those powers

we had, forgotten

that first flag
took what was rotten

and burned it
spurned it
spun it into this:

first flag
our flag

wrongs righted by its fist.