bring out the batons,
the crowbars, the kerosene

violent lust
in static humidity,

a veil of sweat
clinging to skin,

like a Sari drenched
with blood

drag them screaming
from their temples and homes

make them disrobe
so they cannot hide

their dark secrets,

these fires of vengeance
burn us bright and blind

Kaśamīra hidū nū mārō
Kaśamīra hidū nū mārō.

Provocative truth teller, author of 19 poetry collections. Cat dad. Dog dad. Currently working from Portland, Oregon. Learn more at: