They gathered in small groups;
They gathered in secret places;
They spoke their dream in hushed voices;
“It’s dangerous!” they said;
“He’s dangerous!” they said;
“We can not wait longer, he preaches
He inflames innocence with desires
He imbues a bloody business with
images of beauty.
He’ll cause our daughters to roam, to give
He has taken manly lust, tames it, renames it,
He challenges our rights as ‘fathers!’
Come brothers, good men all! Let us
stone the poet!
Published in Moroccan Star Poetry