Rory said:“Dead is dead whether you are killed in a civil war or not. Broken and ruined is the same whether it resulted from "torture" or "intensive interrogation methods." Incineration by phosphorous feels the same whether you call it willie pete or w. bush.”
Rory, this one is for you my friend…
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O! How white-hot and dead are these times
We still have some you know
Time
They still have a little
The center of life still throbs within us
seamless
Like a finely woven cloth masking our winter
10, 20, 100,
180 thousand
These others
Broken shells of breath maligned in rage
Soldiers standing in stunned reverie
Protecting their friends from fire
Ingesting the barbs of their own
torturous slaughter there
Phosphorous showering them in shrieking
For a king without a throne
a nation without a leader
a soul
a heart
a prayer
Rifles and tanks
RPG
IED
Tramping wet ground caked in the sap
Of existence and solemnity
Their reckoning-a-rata-tat-tat harmony
Heaps on
with each skull
Each gut
Each leg
Each arm
Each soul
Dead
is
dead
mrp
