1993.
The Polish kids tell me
they *Love* Michael Jackson.
That’s nice, I reply (thinking of you),
he loves Polish kids too.
They look at me innocently, expectantly,
word in the village is
I’d once been to Hungary.
…
Bitterly, the babysitter reflects:
“Kids, you can do anything,
as evil as you like,
total impunity,
if you’re rich and famous enough.
This is the way of the West.
Exploitation, decadence, degradation.
As the man-child sings:
“Finger-fuck, my baby,
it don’t matter if you’re black or white”.
…
New world order,
disenchanted and confused,
past, present, future,
Polish kids cry.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
