mhall46184@aol.com
Corpses for the Lamps of China
If any question why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.
-Kipling
Drones fall like broken promises upon
The burning decks while errant missiles fly
From sea to murky sea keeping the peace
Of headless bodies bobbing in the surf
Our leaders’ wars are yeah-boy video games
(With single-malt) across a shiny screen
But workers’ wars are blood and dirt and death
And “Thank you for your service” (now go away)
The good die young, so do the bad, but not
The sons and daughters of our nomenklatura
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