Compañera  (for Joan Jara)

 

In the confusion, the poet has lost his notebook (Gaza related) …or the paper survives the murder. They have taken Victor Jara to the stadium. Sing now, if you can, you bastard. He did, and they beat him, broke his wrists. Tortured / shot / six bodies in a row. The last poem smuggled out of the mayhem. The British Embassy closed / barred against refugees. Dot, dot, dot recurring. The (fascist) regime recognised – ditto, Compañera Joan. Wicked or stupid, George? 50th anniversary just passed, barely noticed. As has Joan. Iniquity (Tory, John Pilger remarked). The shuffle, like a chain gang, of protest march(es), she remembered. Radio Magallanes broadcast to the last, hymned by Daniele, Ibrahim.

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© Stephen C. Middleton

 

 

 

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