Featured Poem

The white man killed my father
Because my father was proud
The white man raped my mother
Because my mother was beautiful
The white man wore out my brother in the hot sun of the roads
Because my brother was strong
Then the white man turned to me
His hands red with blood
Spat black his contempt into my face
And in his master's voice:
"Hey boy, a pastis, a towel, some water."

Author: David Diop
Title: Le Temps du martyre