Army of Draculas
Patrick Sylvain
All the monsters live here
on this half dead island.
An army of Draculas
haunting street demonstration
with diabolical tanks
roaring down
Jean-Jacques Dessalines’ boulevard
to eat children
who dare sing.
I see darkness all around
and hear a hawk’s laughter
ringing in the plains.
I smell urination in the dust
for death is the rhythm
of the ground.
It is not yet midnight
and the skies empty of the moon
I hear wolves wail
and hours creaking
past dead bones.
On this half dead island
the rifle of the Zenglendos
stares death in the eyes
and coughs blood.
I still hear the hawk’s laughter
and crunching bones.
Inside election booths
soldiers carry death
in their mouths
rifles play ballads
and gun butts slap faces
until blood river flows.
Copyright © Patrick Sylvain