Issue #1470      1 September 2010

Solidarity Poem

She thumbs through
caressingly,
looking for laksa.

The book emits age and a rhythm of
words,
brown pages brittle.

Each instruction informs us
that
we are part.

An ancient and succulent
dish,
sweet yet shocking.

Chicken & noodles & coriander &
coconut,
hunger craving satisfaction.

from whence it comes the plough
turns,
people dig earth.

They watch the sun dip
low,
and organise thoroughly.

Theirs is a bitter and long
struggle,
old as colonialism.

Bent with oppression in his
cell,
the prisoner dreams.

The pot simmers its milky
crucible,
clung with goodness.

In our country a police cell
death
swings head sideways.

outside the fog rises
slowly,
filling the trees.

Tom Pearson

Next article – Workers’ demands are legitimate!

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