On communists

By Zlatko Pranjic

They were terrible
I always wince when others reminisce
How we fared under them – terrible
But I still choose to listen
I listen to my forefathers chewing crap
I listen to worms chewing my forefathers
I listen to their hungry sons who had nothing to chew
I can also hear the sob of their mothers 
It rebounds from the sound of a Titoist marching song 
Bastards, all of them who mixed with the other sides
I listen to stories about the pledge of silence
The romantic Adolph-like aspiration
Belonging to the great and good of today 
Stories about God being expelled and secret baptisms
In a country of religious rights.
The Jesus-like calvary of the vanquished
As the people celebrate instead of mourning

I listen about the lack of freedom, their arrogant path to riches
Earned by others
How they piss on the poor

I listen to the sobs of the poor
But can’t make out if they come out of the windows
Or from the moaning

So there I am listening to stories of hardship  
Under Tito’s tough boot

I listen but don’t remember a thing

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