arrogance pomp and circumstance
holding the holy wars in your hands
the capture of humanity wrapped
in a shroud of stars and stripes
because you bleed red white and blue
the domination of other nations
cultures, lives, dogma, knowledge
thrown like dice in a back alley shadow
the hustler knowing the tricks and the traps
but the lines of pitiful fools keeps growing
never stopping long enough to know
those who can’t don’t, won’t hope
it’s different for those who sing
open unafraid unhindered
belting out bottomless lyrics
when the saints come marching in
and all the trivia of amazing grace
reading words without comprehension
symbols written in sand at low tide
kill those at the wrong end of the rainbow
never seeing glitter and gold and hope
watching your child starve, shake, sick
too many flies to wipe from their faces
they can’t eat words or drink sentiment
peddling your freedom door to door
in the neighborhoods of popup houses
with no guts, no trademark, no idea
a beige population with picket fences
screaming words in combinations
stirring the emotions of bred nationalists
the children raised on lies and apple pies
baseball, hot dogs and jesus christ
stomping in unison, automatons chanting
“let freedom ring, democracy for all”
tired phrases, definition lost in translation
uncle sam sending birthday cards and love
draft numbers concocted, dropped in the hat
like bingo numbers in the old folks home
the very judicial sentiment in small print
a contract for open hunting season
on those born in the wrong place wrong time
it’s all about survival of the fittest, eugenics
romantic revolutions carried out by children
seven steps removed from humanity
the ritual beginning with the broken ego
the self shaved away with locks of hair
the initiation, indoctrination and validation
the ever present buzzing of the hive mind
one unit, one body, one hand murdering
setting thousands of babies on fire
the laundry list of philosophy and excuses
cannot neutralize the image of the three year old
girl wrapped around her mother’s knee
eyes watching as bullets hit heads
spraying brains on concrete and bricks
terrified, existing long enough to know
to feel the warmth of the mother’s blood
the hand once steady, now limp and loose
there is no justification, no moral rationale
when the mother screams in labor
the birth of a still born innocent monster
a wad of skinless organs, bones and pain
the baby who lives with no skull and 4 legs
the result of uranium plated death
radioactive, nuclear devices of submission
recycled and used as a fine china set
enemies bought and paid for with taxes
billions of dollars invested in a war
to kill an enemy who carries a gun
stamped made in the usa