Waste Machine Part Ii
Sin plagues the land!
Where men cry out from false pulpits
That we can get :back to the Garden"
And mongrelize ourselves into
Some kind of World Man,
Sin plagues the land.
Where honest, decent fellows
Are dragged off to lose
The no-win wars, and
"righteous causes" become
Enmeshed in UN delegations
And rich senators for hire!
And lies roar out of the Gulf
of Tonkin
Tseunami-like, wearing medals they explode
Into long rows of graves and long rows of steel
Emplanted upright still steaming from the
Cutter charges,
And sandbags sprout like locasts
In the streets of old Kuwait
And up to Tikrit's fortress,
While lies flow in the night
Back and forth from DC town
And From Tel Aviv to Tehran
And back again,
History writes its story
On the dust of our dead sons.
And the Court Historians make a movie of it.
We'll watch it just for fun.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
