i. Prologue Ex <br /> <br /> This forever war is flowing somewhere… <br />A ballad of the blues over sanguine seas. <br /> <br />The baghdad blues: <br />a man in a corner does not move. <br />His wife and children, strewn: lost love-letters of blood. <br /> <br />Beneath the veil of a willowy dream, <br />as if the world shall absolve you with buttery palms. <br />God is watching you, sad soldier, <br />dragging the landing gear of prosthetics. <br /> <br /> <br />ii. Post En Medias Res <br /> <br />In this land of no escape, <br />Take me to Walter Reed, <br />The privatized foothold of rats, <br /> <br />Birthing future breeders <br />Of post traumatic stress, <br />Oil oligarchy disorder. <br /> <br />To spend limbless days, <br />basking in the sun’s rays, enlivened <br />with particles of biochemical warfare. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />iii Facto Epilogue <br /> <br /> <br />I hear America crying: <br />politicians as war heroes, <br />priests as common criminals, <br />bards at the podium. <br /> <br />And where are the philosophers? <br />Destined to the peeling wail <br />of a teetering helicopter, <br />Small mosquito in the eye of God? <br /> <br />Listen, America, dry your tears, <br />don’t bask in the permanent grandeur <br />of abandoned radio halls <br /> <br />As we walk on water like Jesus, <br />Apprenticed for Armageddon.<br /><br />MARINA GIPPS<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ex-post-facto/
