Enter a country
in the name of trade.
Find holes in their social fabric
and take over the authority
eventually.
Find gaps in their learnings,
thrust English
into the possibilities
of their dialect.
Tell them how uncivilized they are,
and keep repeating
how you’re their saviour
till they forget
their history.
Build railways for their labour,
schools for your propaganda,
and churches for your guilt.
Call it development.
Call it destiny.
Call it discovery-
till the robbed start
thanking the robber.
Leave monuments
that bear your names,
and minds
that bear your accent.
Teach them to bow
at invisible crowns,
to measure their worth
in imported manners.
Then leave-
but don’t really leave.
Stay inside their textbooks,
their grammar,
their corporate meetings
and dating apps.
Let your empire
live rent-free
in their metaphors.
When they rise again,
apologize formally-
with hashtags,
Netflix documentaries,
and guilt-washed accents.
Rename your conquest
as connection,
your looting as legacy.
Then smile,
because they’ll still
quote you
to sound intelligent.
And centuries later,
when they speak
your tongue
better than you-
call it progress.
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