Matt Duggan – Pegida

Pegida

Roots of twisted logic surface from branches in blood
turning pages of old
flowering in the consciousness,
the revival of holocausts retold.

The shots rang out in the keepers of kosher
a man with deadened addicted eyes, wielding his Anti-Semitic silver
behind Parisian walls – a God dies.

Last time the Jewish people hid in cellars
a maniac galvanised the people marching in Hugo Boss black
crushing freedom like heels of veined sepal.

These roots can and will flourish when vulnerability clouds judgment,
fear is the blunt sickle that cannot cut stained by the rise of the repugnant.

In Dresden they returned in mass
outnumbering the frozen left, when governments mourn their own views
they disregard fragility from the repressed.

Now the mad men of Mujahideen have revived those brown shirts of old,
those Stomping jack-boots will march again,
monochrome soldiers in Acapulco gold.

Matt Duggan was born in 1971 in Bristol. He has had poems published in Roundyhouse, Apogee Journal, The Seventh Quarry, The Cobalt Review, Dwang, The Journal, The Dawntreader, Sarasvati, Poetry Quarterly and many more.
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