Our bodies are not steel,
do not bend and mangle
on impact.
Our bodies, bone,
crumble, split, grind.
The silt of too many years
standing
among ruins.
What is this
if not loss defined?
Would that our bodies were steel.
Would that they crawled into themselves,
cradle curled
around the bullet spray,
whole
still.
Bodies pressed clean
between the thumbs
of your machinery.
Is that not what you hoped
your ammunition rain might bring?
Did you not wish
for hospital curtains drawn closed,
around the small
of a slippery cold
back,
the return of organs,
a ticking clock,
just one day of replacing batteries,
one day of reviving the orchestra,
motors, gears, jaws,
that we might go home new,
mended,
no worse for the wear
of all this living
under your madness?
When you shower
gutted bombs
into the sea glass green
of fields,
when you spit
blistering gas
into our homes,
when you invent
wars to defend
your hatred,
your wallets,
your seething power,
do you not expect
flesh
to become carcass,
bodies
to ignite,
lives
to end?
For if you do,
how do you keep
living, knowing
what your butcher hands
have carved?
Throughout the “War on Terror,” Obama has defended bombings in Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia, Libya, Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere. During the past few years, it has become increasingly clear that these attacks often lead to more extremism, not less, especially when compounded with the constantly shifting alliances that the administration forges. In each case, there are countless civilian deaths. The recent decision to begin a new assault in Syria has been widely criticized especially given the lack of evidence regarding a true terror threat to the U.S. This poem is in no way a cry against political action in situations of human rights violations; it is a response to the continued violence perpetuated by President Obama and his administration.
https://firstlook.org/theintercept/2014/09/28/u-s-officials-invented-terror-group-justify-bombing-syria/