Written
during the first Gulf War.
To
a Civilian Casualty
Congratulations!
You have been kept to
an absolute minimum.
The
ministers
raise their clean hands.
No more questions.
This madman Husseins
beyond the pale,
him and his white horse.
Meanwhile Madam Russia
turns over in bed,
crushing her little ones.
Saddam can be relied on
to pour oil on
troubled waters.
The Mother of Battles
makes ready to suckle.
Blood trickles from the nipple.
The B52s roll out the red
carpet.
She lies down in the grit,
she spreads her arms
and licks the marine sergeants
ear,
whispering, After 28 days
of combat 98 per cent
of frontline troops
are psychologically debilitated
and require evacuation.
That just leaves the one
in fifty; that just means
mad to you and me, soldier.
Im telling you this
because I have a clear
and objective view of the war
whereas yours has been partial
and distorted
since your roof fell on you.
I see wet rust
falling out of a head.
I see a Bush speaking
between two bundles of firewood,
INGODWETRUST
in letters of gold on the wall.
John
Gibbens
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