there are no trenches in this modern war
except the ones dug for the dead.
I dream I’m running from a cruise missile.
the children play hide and seek, hide and BOOM
the bomb digs the trench for them.
lies, wrapped in swaddling clothes
how can I rephrase that? lies mmmmmmm BOOM.
I dream I’m Charlie Chaplin
the dead are draped gently in colour
rarely in black and white
peace, a word I saw once on a piece-
of scratch paper. I mean world peace
a nice idea, a truly nice ideaniceideaniceidBOOM
I dream george is having cold sweats
in the closet. He doesn’t look so good.
and the children,
at least they don’t know what hit … BOOm!
but we do, yes by god, indeedy,
I dream I’m having cold sweats in the closet.
I’ve seen enough, turn the damn thing off.
I dream that cruise is cruising, its breath
on my neck.
where do all those dead
people go? I mean the place must be
one huge burial ground so to speak so to BOOM.
I dream of Charlie Chaplin. he turns
the corner, toes out like a duck quickquick,
off with his head.
a bit strong I think,
go easy on the BOOM!
I dream on….
I don’tfeelthatfeelgoodfactor says george.
I sleep dreamlessly.
guerra guerre harb war by any other name is BOOM!