The grief of my country 
is sitting in the corner of my stomach.

A pigheaded bacterium— 
it is going nowhere.

A garrison in my small intestines;
a dogged settler army of worms laying ambush.

I cannot throw up,
there are razor-wires dipped in my throat. 

The goddamn grief blocked!

From the broken spoon,
I have been eating Herr Coloniser!

I will digest you; your bones 
with fluoric acids—
will dissolve you in my pee.

I will shit you out from my body!

(This Poem appeared in the October 2020 print issue of the Mountain Ink.)

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