What is political poetry, Kent?

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THE TUNNEL

I was coming back to Sarajevo the only way you could: through the tunnel. Water seeped in everywhere through the narrow passageway; the mud made it even harder to get through. Since there wasn’t enough air, I became so exhausted that I had to to stop halfway. I was ready to lay down and die right where I was till I found a spot that was a little wider, made to put aside the dead, so the living could pass. I stayed right there, for hours, underground, and thought of Radovan.

(From Sarajevo Blues, by Semezdin Mehmedinović)