No one can watch
the Wasichu
anymore
He is always
penetrating
a people
whose country
is too small
for him
His bazooka
always
sticking up
from some
howling
mother’s
backyard.
No one can watch
the Wasichu
anymore
He is always
squashing
something
Somebody’s guts
trailing
his shoe.
No one can watch
the Wasichu
anymore
He is scalping
the earth
till she runs
into the ocean
The dust of her
flight
searing
our sight.
No one can watch
the Wasichu
anymore
Smirking
into our bedrooms
with his
terrible
Nightly News …
No one can watch
the Wasichu
anymore.
Regardless.
He has filled
our every face
with his window.
Our every window
with
his face.