The Internet Forgets

Forget, internet.

Forget that I am portending that the dictator in Kampala will one day not whoosh past in his convoy.

Forget that I am foretelling that we shall mourn the Kasese massacred, that we can’t mourn today.

Forget that I do not see the going on the pieces of paper thrown into iron boxes every five years.

Forget that I do not see it in the copper and iron of the bullet either.

Forget everything I say, now.

Forget, internet.

Forget.

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