The Nation Who Cannot Curse
Her tongue was torn out —
truth her only crime.
No opposition,
no marching feet,
no true heroes left to follow.
A circle of weary activists
mime solidarity.
No one dares name the sovereign
for all he has broken.
Taboo.
For the commoner —
what remains
that power has not forbidden,
nor ignored?
Visitors see only the surface —
(thank God).
“What a beautiful nation!” they exclaim.
Perhaps the only thing
this nation can still do
is curse —
but she has not learned
to curse,
believing it
the darkest sin
in the world.
And even if she knew,
the curse would mingle
with a louder choir —
the orchestra of panegyrists.
