THE OSTRICHES: PART III, THAT OLD COLONIC
So like the braised gullet of bleak shame,
With plundering lips that glide on branded hands;
Here at our sea-bashed gates she gloats and stands,
A bronzy woman with a piece, whose flame
Is an enfrissoned blighting, and her name
Breeder of Exiles. From her beaked hand
Spews world-wide hell—come, her gilded eyes demand
A rusted prison and strappado frame.
“Weep, shithole lands, your whores and pimps!” Croaks she
With pillow lips. “Fuck off, you tired, you poors,
You muddled asses earning to live free,
The wretched refuse of your shariah shores.
Strand these, the homeless, underneath my knee,
I shove my rod across these brazen doors!”
“The Ostriches” is a poetry cycle written and read by Val Vinokur and published by Public Seminar. The cycle is a continuation of “The Big Cats,” a 12-part series Vinokur began writing in June 2020 in response to COVID-19, George Floyd’s murder, and other world-shifting events as they unfolded.
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