I have been plagued
and the plagued write poetry ……fast poetry
I’m over war, and its trappings
I’ve never even been in one
Well, not in this life
That makes me lucky
But I’m so over war
Over my head the steel birds
Practice games of death
‘Pitch Black’ Operations
My brain explodes
Overhead the F’s this and that
16’s, 18’s whatever, swoop and scream
Real kites and eagles soar less high
Fearing the steel winged ones above
They circle less
We’re working with the US
Singapore, Emirates, Malaysia, Thailand
I imagine them over Gaza, over Donetsk
over people, same planes, clinical strikes
Dead people, pitch black
I cant understand the popular call
What’s wrong with you?
…….They ask what’s wrong with me?
I ask what’s wrong with us
That we collectively cry
But cry out
Whats wrong with you?
Green, hippy, jihadi loving, commie, weirdo!
Those steel birds of war, they make us feel safe.
(People scare me more than the steel birds)