AFP photo
By
Henry Bladon
Paris ‘61
They stroll the banks of the Seine;
hear the shouting;
see dark smoke rising
above the leafy boulevards,
amidst the Algerian protests.
Curiosity invites them closer
to the cacophony of chaos.
She coughs as
the acrid smoke
wafts their way.
She looks at him
with tears in her eyes.
He seeks to reassure her:
it’s okay; this is not our fight.
The symphony of discontent
continues
as the people feed
the politics of protest.
Streets awash
with anger at injustice,
and pulsing with
reactionary rhythm.
A river of humanity
flowing by burning vehicles
and shattered glass.
This is not our fight, he repeats,
as they leave the cannibalized streets
and the blackened heart of the city,
turning their backs
on the billowing rage.
They spend the evening
drinking wine
and having sex
as if nothing has happened.
Tomorrow they will read the papers
and learn about a massacre;
about deaths
from state ordered beatings
and drownings,
and they will feel shame for their nation
and sadness for the protesters.
Henry Bladon
Henry is a writer of short fiction and poetry based in Somerset in the UK. He has degrees in psychology and mental health policy, and a PhD in literature and creative writing. His work can be seen in Entropy, FridayFlashFiction, Mercurial Stories, Potato Soup Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, and Spillwords Press, among other places.
Profound and touching and a great eye opener! Thankyou Henry! Respect. Patti Moore. ??