Sunday 5 November 2017

Bugsplat


Brown people in a brown land
Aren't really human,
They're the targets in a video game
That vanish when they die -

Faceless enemies on a screen
Rushing at you, and destroyed
By a movement of your finger.

They're insects, bugsplat. Not human
They do not bleed and do not cry
It's fun to crush them and make them fry.

What is an insect's anger? What can an insect do?
When you sit on the other side of the world
Sending down thunderbolts from the sky
You decide who'll live and who's going to die.

They are bugsplat

And you are god.
And you're god.


Copyright B Purkayastha 2017


The Revolution Calls

The Revolution Calls
Material : Acrylic on Wood
Copyright : B Purkayastha 2017, but free to share.




[To those good Russians who oppose the Revolution: too bad, ladies and gentlemen, it's not your Revolution any longer. It belongs to the world now.]