Poetry Year October 17

"An orgy of a war"

You all, you call, you cum, with your home built
m u n i t i o n s
You spread, you spew, you spunk, and you leave just
d e v a s t a t i o n s
You spit, you spat, there is no at, where was was a town's
m i n i s t r a t i o n s
the blood is soaked, is sopped, is seared, and burning hair does float
in eager air
g y r a t i o n s.

They cry, they catch, the caress the baby whose skull is now
o b l i t e r a t i o n s
the mother's song is all day long, joining funeral
l i b a t i o n s
The hawk it's flight from edge of night,
now ended in accomplished mission,
and down below, the tale of woe,
to atomic age submission.

The voice from aloft, the screech of jet so soft,
contrail traced in crystal sky,
above the blossom blood
of poppy love,
giving face to the lie.

There is no salvation,
there is no salve,
there is no healing,
only the grave
of nations.

chrys and cry, storm and lie,
seed the ground with Taliban,
which flourish fanning from McChrystal's
d e s o l a t i o n s.