Friday, September 14, 2007

A Found Poem For Clocking Out Early On A Friday

My country’s police, if he doesn’t like the way I have put my hejab on, cusses at me and beats me on the head with his baton.

But I can’t curse at my country’s police, because my uncle is a policeman and I love my uncle.

…but I want to curse those who have sanctified arbitrarily every which authority and power and have never allowed me to talk about them.

When My president lied.

When my parliament representative did not defend the rights of my teacher

When my police killed a human being because of his crime of being an Afghani

And when a father in the narrow alleyways of my city stoned his own daughter to death.

Azadeh: "My Dear Uncle Is A Policeman."


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