Your latest tweet and the soldiers grapple
hand to hand now, their weapons forgotten,
right and correct, grunting and staggering, like
two tired old men, bracing each other, fingers
hooked in the other’s cheek, thumb in bloody eye.
Your latest tweet and the secret police come
hammering at the door, pulling people from their
beds, pressing their heads down, with the
sight of a rifle, tying their hands in the cold of
their kitchens, leading them out to the idling vans.
Are we asking too much? Your latest tweet and
the judges are seated and donning their hoods,
the court reporter leans forward to take down the
verdict, an artist composes an unsympathetic sketch,
the crowd in the gallery is raucous with cheering.
Your latest tweet, equates justice and revenge,
with tweezers and toothpicks, fine callipers,
traps and pitfalls, reversals and pogroms.
I scrolled down the thread and every message
was a victim and every victim threw a stone.