Photo courtesy of Twitter

“Gota go home” the Aragalaya demanded.

Now, fifty odd days after going abroad

instead, he has returned, to a garland


and a motorcade, to bodyguards

and decoy cars, to a house protected

by army and police, to live with


respect due to a former president

who pumped gas once in America,

who became a denyer of gas at home,


who terminated opposition

with black-clad enforcers

on black motorbikes, melded


now into the detail and

the details that will protect

him from the wrath of people,


of justice, unless the Aragalaya

does not turn the other cheek,

refuses to forgive even the most


intractable sinner, who forced

Muslims to burn their dead,

who ordered mowing down


of Tigers waving white flags,

while Isipraya, the newscaster,

lay defiled and cast down


on the battlefield, This too

is on the Aragalaya mind

as Gota puts on his sarong


in his new home in the center

of the city (location not

disclosed in this poem).