rivers of blood

there are thousands in the square today and the air is heavy with the heat of the summer to come. on two blue screens a message warns the masses against displaying certain flags and images, which will amount to a criminal offence. there is talk of daring to believe in the idea of humanitarian law, or a world order that believes enough in the sanctity of shared humanity to cry more than empty words of sympathy for the massacre of thousands. there is talk of another way that we can be, of standing in resistance to the greed of the lucky few at the expense of billions. there is talk of tomorrow and the rising price of oil; how much innocent blood is enough for the seats at the table to stand? we hear the testimonies from under the trees: over three million displaced, sixteen thousand children martyred, all with the unwavering support of the country I call home. the police stand on the outskirts of the crowd, armed to serve and protect civil society against the rebels in case they raise a flag.

on the street as I leave I read a sign that says ‘rivers of blood’. at the store I catch myself in the camera watching me scan the food I’ll forget at the back of my fridge and I am complicit in my apathetic existence. I dream of waking to a world that isn’t this.