war in the name of the free | poem
poetry
B-2 bombers rip up the sky tonight.
In the land of the free they prepare more men for war
over something we were told was global threat.
Are there any regrets left inside white house final hour?
Will an evergreen lawn ever bleed red, white and blue?
Maybe there are no longer any problems left to justify
what suits do in situation rooms of biometrics.
Blood in the rubble tonight, travertine walls busted like plaster
piles of sandals, rugs, tea.
Another generation lost over more control than a culture needs.
Calls for a regime change, years of occupation.
Drones float like feathers over family homes tonight.
They had nothing to do with it in the first place.
America told us governance is violence tonight.
Hear the sirens cry, one last prayer
watch Persian silk become phoenix flames.
Who is to blame for guardianship betrayals?
Regrets no longer exist
in places where patriotism blinds the eyes.
Hear the verse of Hafez whisper to the wind tonight
hear bombs fall into deathly silence.
Half asleep, half heard among a verse of guardianship
once promised in US election campaigns