Tuesday, May 10, 2022

In the Rooms of the War


Atrocities, monstrous afterbirths from the womb of war

are livestreamed to the world: we’re all on Zoom with the war.


The World-Wide Web, chattered out by millions of Babbage machines

replaced the old Iron Curtain, woven on the clattering looms of war.


The info-ecosphere bulges, bloated with blood,

swollen on key-click counts, global consumers doomscrolling war.


The gas-pump death-rattles, hose swinging empty, ghost-chains

of a spectral economy junkie-sucking at the fumes of war.


Instead of a bomb-filled night

may there be darkness and peace.


Over a sunlit field

song of a lark in peace.


At the end of all my prayers

God, harken: peace.


Books Available
Dervish Lions
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside

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