Local Wars

All wars are local now. If across an ocean a butterfly dies in a hail of machine gun fire, a moth here expires in the light. Oil gases-up inflationary angst. Cocaine lines grow longer, Fentanyl funerals explode. Mobs move up to the front line where the mindless scream their battle hymns. Most war-mongers could not find a war torn Ukraine town, or their local V A center on a map. Hawks gather to pump up pride then hide when the fan drips s... A Russian conscript writes home “the locals’ hate us” he tells his mom’. His mom lives in a shack in Vladivostok, it’s still too local, she sees the ripple effects of burning tanks in her dreams.