Don't burn the flag. Wash it!
This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO
(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)
Behind the wailing woods these words flow like blood coursing shrapnelWithin your mouth darts a lightless, dreadful languageWaiting upon your blur-eyed bidding.Christ! It is marvelous this ignorance;This thought that all is glowing and unbroken!What are you so afraid of? What miserable blade awaits you? What despair?Your world is not vacant of treachery! It is not empty of death!Forty dead! One hundred dead! One hundred and eighty!The half-starved lamb seeks you out, waits on your mouth to open,To discourage life bleeding out as you unthinkingly blather.The lamb’s tongue flops in the throes of deathAnd you put your insolent ignorance inside lickingTo breathe, one bomb, one bomb, one bomb!Behind the wailing woods your ill-bred words are perceived as truthTo those who worship andWhose mouths will stand agape waiting on your tongue.
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
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