Afzal Moolla was born in Delhi, India while his parents were in exile, working as anti-Apartheid activists for the African National Congress. He subsequently travelled wherever his parent's work took them. He still feels that he hasn't stopped travelling. Afzal works and lives in Johannesburg, South Africa and shares his literary musings with his most strident critic - his 12 year old cat.
Summer 2012
Table of Contents - Vol. VIII, No. 2
Poetry Fiction Translations Reviews
Afzal Moolla
The foul odor of scarred flesh.
The reeking decomposition.
Bodies once animated, once so alive,
Now strewn across the moist ground.
The surgical strike.
The pin-point accuracy.
The smartest weapons,
Deployed,
To decimate the bad guys.
Black and brown people,
More often than not,
Pummeled to a pulp,
Black and blue.
While LCD screens miles away,
Surveil and scan for potential targets,
The unknown other.
The evil doers,
As mothers and daughters,
Pick out apples and spinach
In a market-place in the cross-hairs.
© Afzal Moolla
