I worked with Vietnam veterans for many years. So I know how our society celebrates veterans, since the body count first appeared on the evening news. There has long been a secret about PTSD, which is contained in this report. Keep in mind, the ratio of civilian deaths has steadily climbed in the imperial, shock and awe, wars of the past few decades. I was thinking of the bouncing torment in the minds of the winners, as I wrote this poem for them. As we think of our people recruited by the insatiable war contractors, I hope we also think about the peoples of Yemen, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, etc..., who listen to drones 24 hours a day, everyday.
I Am The Winner
I see the Drones a-flyin high
Hear buzzing sound surround
Heaven’s rage unbound,
This night, the terror kids will die.
"Enemy combatants," the expert writes:
"They should have stayed at home"
"Polishing the family chrome;"
"Shareholders, have their rights."
I hear those villains' villages weeping
Far across the sphere
Heaven’s wrath is always near,
While all the lambs lay sleeping.
The Lords I serve, want all the Gold
For them, I live to fight
It belongs to them by right,
Our lives, are bought and sold.
And so the prey, the little souls
Must lay among the sheep
And wait each day for endless sleep,
As the diggers; dig more holes...
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