Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Rushdie’s Revenge (a poem)
Salman Rushdie, a man with no hair on his tongue—
A man with no blood in his face—
Cleaver as a fox, a snake in the grass, ready to attack!
His words in “The Satanic Verses,” are out of anger
and frustration, perhaps some disgrace…
Whose plots are surely Islamic comic, even if he says not!
Who loves the world’s money, and perhaps would kill
himself for the 3.3—million fatwa reward, if indeed he could
live to spend it of course.
Surreal as it may be, he makes a monkey out of Khomeini,
and Muhammad, it’s plain to see…!
With its magical realism and its dream like sequences,
parallel stories and sub-plots (how many have died
for his freedom of speech: of which he holds no responsibility
but wants his rights?)
I guess what I’m trying to say, and to say in all honesty,
He’s a great actor, writer he is not, that’s plain to see,
complex yes, but nonetheless, gobbledygook, like
“Finnegans Wake” or for that matter: dark as Blake.
Yet, his dream-visions narratives cross the seas…
From Mecca to Jaipur, to the underground brothels of
New York City…and has caused controversy—but
In all this do we see? How about a man laughing,
and running to the bank by Union Square in
New York City?