A poem in protest against the war on terror

by Charlie Baylis

Today twelve green jets dropped stars on Pakistan
Each one garlanded with blue eyes and emptiness
The flags of the west dined on the flags of the east

Still no one sang of the height of the mountains
No one strapped a tear to the back of a snowflake
And timed an exploding igloo with fists of sand

So the pretty boys must cube the Captain’s sugar
And stir the lime into his tea, before the pale night
Assaults them with his whip, with sieves and bandages

Because no one is chanting the rights of the mouth
No one is protecting acres of wild pomegranate
Or shall shepherd away the heads of dead donkeys

The millionaires will lunch on parades of waves
And stuff mint into the babies’ bottoms, happy
As the carousel rounds the gold in their pockets

No one is hunting the victims of polar bears
Or raising an ivory chapel laced with pearl
Because the drones don’t scream for the end of the drones
Because the one-eyed man can’t see.


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