She spat on her ancestors’
home and said, I have vomited this nation

out! Isn’t this where the hands are found
flashing steels on the walls like teeth

eating the body? With breath heavy like
the tears of a raped virgin, she said:

I read verses & prose about Rwanda & I swear
I could have named this place “Paradise”.

But someone has split the face of the law
in my country. I trot towards the trench,

towards the faces prostrating to dusts. God!
There’s nothing that blinds the eyes like grief.

At her front yard, she discarded all
the mattocks and the machetes.

She stared at the weeping race
and the sleeping race. Sometimes,

her only wish is to wake up
amongst the country’s unstained grasses

and it will be enough
to call even the fallen places “Paradise”.

©Hassan Imran