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Robert Finkbine Poem
The Love of Mothers
Nerve slicing mercury inhabiting breast milk, slashing
the suckling babe, the one who will not walk until she is four
and endure unexplainable pain. Gold piles up, red tag special
on weapons (no questions asked), palms greased, bribes split by cronies,
Social Darwinism raising it’s 1880’s head, uranium mined at the
edge of the Grand Canyon, poisons spread across the land,
trading crippled and cut-short human lives for corporate profit.
Praise life but launch unnecessary war with unspecified collateral damage, weeping mothers
looking for parts of children, their suffering rooted
deep, deeper than roses, than war, un assuaged by cross or Messiah.
Red, white and blue lies — masses believe
sleazy misinformation, the elephant still invisible,
earth measured by bottom-line profit.
There is a massive disconnect between what
our government proclaims and does.
To be aware of the gap and see it ignored
erodes sanity. W’s pimpish mind is too narrow
for history. 2001-2008 is in the wastebasket.
He has ill-used his opportunity for greatness
and wasted eight years of our lives.
Copyright © Robert Finkbine | Year Posted 2009
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