Bloody Thursday
Papa Doc Duvalier Was Having a Bad Day
By: J.M. Robert Henriquez - May 14, 2015
Bloody Thursday
I trek this trail
Anxiously!
It isn’t a happy one
Taking me back when
My heart was heavier
My thoughts less complicated
I was an endangered prey
Cast in the crucible
Of political depression and
Like everyone else
I trudged through this grim tale
Of guns blazing
To partake of the mysteries
That have forever characterized
The city of my birth
Bloody Thursday
Was the moniker used in Port au Prince
As the tale was to be told
My daily walk to school
Was interrupted by an Armageddon of sort
“Get off the street and take shelter”
A voice whispered … I listened
But had no time to comply
Draconian fangs glistening with venom
Were already piercing flesh
Armored trucks roared and charged
Sirens wailed and gun shots
Fired at will at fleeing targets
Gimme shelter!
I cowered into my own private rabbit hole
All alone and Freaked out
For good reasons
Papa Doc Duvalier was having a bad day
A gang of rebels that couldn’t shoot straight
Failed to hit their mark
The Duvalier dauphin—(Baby Doc)
A soft target by any measure
Didn’t die that day
How could they have missed?
Alas!
The shit did hit the fan
That fateful day and I survived
As for others whose lives
Were taken randomly and unjustly
We’ll never be able to avenge them
Or bring their killers to justice
Now they’re festering carcasses
Interred deep in our unconscious
It begged to lament
O Country my Country
What have we wrought?
The first black Republic
Too often on the brink
Of national chaos
Always in danger of being pilloried
In a racist way
By a smug First World …
So then—what evil have we sowed
To reap such malediction?
O no! My native land
Do not be compelled
To forsake our collective memories
Your bloody and victorious past is ours
To remember—lest we forget
Absence of memory is death
To remember is to resurrect
Awake! Black Lazarus
Come forth
All of Humanity commends it
Do I now feel relieved?