Go Retro Satan!
by NADA SKAFF
Bodies no longer obey. The mind is absent. We hear without listening. We march forward. the roots are shaken in the depths. How does the uprooted tree cope with emptiness? Where did I read that trees in a forest communicate through their entangled roots? Are we the beehives of the same forest?
Leviathan is advancing inexorably. We are completing his filthy task ourselves.
Geese of the low-court, far-right cattle, just good at the extreme, Trissotins that shiver with emotion, analysts and knowledgeable sheep, chickens that squeak and cackle, that you are pretty, that you seem beautiful to me. Satan’s bigots keep signing and rejoicing being born on the right side of the border of their navel. Oh worth it in your royal slime. Look at yourself in your churches.
O a thousand times more the toothless smile of a southern farmer or that of Boulos, sailor of Tyre. A thousand times more the courage of women, the sun-filled eyes of children. Let’s go pick up the slabs of our people. Let’s hold hands to the mothers. Let’s help the destitute. Let’s be the people. Let’s all be human. Let’s love ourselves alive. Let’s be LEBANON.
(©Nada Skaff)
