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War War
by Jan Sand
Issue 13
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A cheese roll and a coffee cup

 

To accompany the morning chatter of the radio

 

Nattering of menaces out of Iraq,

 

Dull appraisals with Chicken Little qualities

 

Submissive to the coercive governmental claque.

 

Propaganda channeled through diverse media,

 

But, at end, persuaded by convergence to attack.

 

 

 

No attempt to disguise the latent fear

 

Solidified by vivid transmissions of the event,

 

The Hollywood catastrophe of collapsing towers

 

Which lived grotesquely both in fantasy and fact

 

Revealing the cavern where the nightmare cowers

 

That its chill tentacles strew across the morning floor

 

To re-enforce hysteria from governmental powers.

 

 

 

There is no question that the threats are real.

 

But there is the sense that it is being used.

 

A tool to shake the ordinary quality of living.

 

Outright violation of firm civil regulation.

 

Violence from laws over-unforgiving.

 

There seems to be a plan in this assault on liberty

 

Generating counter hysterias , thoughts misgiving.

 

 

 

Aside from this war crisis that turns the nation jittery,

 

Other surreptitious governmental legislation

 

Wearing sheepskins of civilian stewardship

 

Are slyly slipped into a wary system

 

Judicial nominations engineered to tip

 

Legalities into abysses of unctuous hypocrisy

 

Punishing the poor, the sick, the deprived with legal whip.

 

 

 

Foundations are shifting. The epicenter at New York

 

Has spread its fissures across the continent.

 

No ground is secure. Rigidities begin to crumble.

 

Official nonsense corrodes good humane sense.

 

Outraged appeals are stifled down to a mumble.

 

This is glory hour for mindless vengeful hate.

 

No room for reason. Its flagellation time for the humble.

 

 

 

Our callous idiotics are mounting for the thrust

 

For the destructive contest of stupidities out there.

 

Soon will bloody body fragments play at circus.

 

Internal organ parts will somersault in crimson sprays.

 

Heads and hands and toes will vaporize, a hocus pocus

 

Of the military, indiscriminate in distributed democracy.

 

A gift of raging explosions in conflicts insane locus.

 

 

 

And for what cause? Will this horrid exhibition

 

Be the surgery to cure the total cancer

 

That has metastasized to penetrate out to the tips

 

Of every energy that engines our power,

 

Or is it frustrated fury that screams and grips

 

The species in a spastic termination

 

To leave the landscape scattered with silent lips?


 
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