Not wanting to deny, I
believed it. Not wanting
to believe it I denied
our Bastille Day. This,
is nothing to srtorm. This
fourteenth of July. With
my own eyes, I saw the fierce
criminal passing for citizen
with a weapon, a piece of wood
and five for one. We laugh
Bastille laughter. These are
not men of death. A pot
of rice is their foul reward.
I have at last started
To understand the origin
of our vileness, and being
unable to deny it, I suggest
its nativity.
In the shame of knowledge
of our vileness, we shall fight.
Martin Carter, ‘Bastille Day – Georgetown’