War poem (I)

The Ukrainian lady offering a flower seed

To a Russian soldier in the street

With the delicate assignment

Worded so eloquently


Take that you motherfucker 

Carry this with you in your pocket

So that when you’re put in the ground

At least something will grow out of you


Has inspired me to address

From the luxury of my kitchen table

In his second language

The snorting agressor himself


Hier du frustrierter Feigling

Ein Kaktus für deine Beerdigung

Schieb es tief in deinem Arsch

So daß noch etwas aus dir bluten wird


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Wat fijn dat jullie er zijn