Poems about Iran by Douglas Gilbert, ” Indigenous Confession “

Indigenous Confession

I confess
dear Supreme Leader that
compassion is foreign to torturers.

I, like your puppet president
kiss your cold-blooded shoulder.

Praise be Supreme Serpent
Hydra-headed ancient
native to Persia
indigenous evil
anathema

Free speech is foreign under the club,
the beating, the blows elicit
the illicitness, the hissing confessions
coerced in a house of ill fame

Poisoned, I
kiss your cold-blooded shoulder
to survive a land
devoid of foreign things.

Praise for the Inquisition:
its lies are broadcast to the world
who listens to foreign things.

For the love in the world
the voice of Neda
is not foreign,
it is shared

—Douglas Gilbert

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