War

War

War

War

War

War is the sword we love to live and die for.

War is the lord we pray to kill and fight for.

War is the why we don’t wanna know now.

War is the bind of proud vengeance, its bloody vow.

War.

Want me some war.

Gotta have me some war.

Come on, let’s war.

War is the corpse we sever in apathy.

War is us dead, feeling no empathy.

War is the drug that numbs the raging beast.

War is a drunk who needs just one more drink.

War.

Want me some war.

Come on, let’s war.

Let’s war some more.

War is the paying others, servants for our dirty deeds.

War is the slaying others we see but never really see.

War is us working, like cogs in oiled machines.

War is us dying, like dogs on busy streets.

War is us pervertin’ love into hate.

War is we’re so certain we hold the only faith.

War ‘cause we need death to feel unholy pleasure.

War, you know you love it, cock the trigger, shoot your terror.

War

is the historical culmination of a profound lack of imagination.

Or more often, a refusal to demand any other options

because we are too busy breaking our backs

to feed our bellies and our children.

Or preoccupied by, which car,

the black SUV or the red SUV

will I buy to drive while fantasizing

about the importance of my daily life,

when half a world away and down the streets

infants die

from man-made famines and a lack

of medical supplies made purposefully scarce.

Mothers smack

their blood-smeared palms

against the chests of their rotting children.

Fathers drink

from mad revenge for the deaths

of desperate sons who throw rocks

                                                    at tanks.

And daughters pray for their own graves

when cold, dead blades are shoved

between their thighs, pried open

by cold, dying hands.

Don’t tell me we hate this

‘cause if we did,

we’d be rioting in the streets right now

and we’re not.

There’d be no war right now

and there is.

Don’t tell me we didn’t know

‘cause deep down

                        we know

                                       we knew.

Don’t tell me we can do nothing

‘cause they are us,

and they can do nothing

without us.

America,

slumber on.

Dream your self-righteous superiority.

Feed your hunger for fat-free salvation.

Settle your guilt on the couch in front of the TV screen.

America,

close tight your eyelids, plug up your ears, and open your wallet

‘cause there’s a war raging, baby,

you signed and paid for.

War.

Yeah, wage a war.

Let’s kill for war.

Let’s die some more.

War.

© Ami Mattison

For One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday