April 24, 2022
Twenty Twenty-Two, Between You Two
April of my life. April of my years.
April in the sun, April in ashes gone
She rode into moonlight, ghost of a village lost
Her hair black and silky, tainted, torn, scalped
Her flurry, her glory, humble obedient family
Girl with a future. A whiff of freedom, esprit
A new century, domestic skills a tyranny
A slight hope, cracked hint, salvation, glee.
In the evening, fires burn, dire screams
In the day, rape, sport, bets, bellies torn
Tis a boy, no, a girl, tis dead, is all
Gyavur, pollute and soil no more.
A Kafir, a sip of coffee while cleaning the dagger’s tip
A smile, a dance, a fire, a scream is this the Turk of 2015?
The Azeri of 2021? Bayrakdar as Viagra, prowess indeed?
Is this Russia dealing lies, promises, empty words and deeds?
Armenians lost again in a sea of ambitions twirling around them
Israel, Georgia, Pakistan, as allies, to the nose of Baku oil Billions
Spilling into the black sea.
Our blood as windshield wiper fluid, debris.
Beverly Hills, CA
Dr. Bedros Afeyan is a theoretical physicist who works and lives in the Bay Area with his wife Marine. He writes in Armenian and in English, and also paints and sculpts. He is the current editor of The Literary Groong.