BLACK WATERS

("Mission accomplished!" GW Bush)

armed marauders float to earth
as plump clouds billow in beauty
above their bloated girth,

these waters of their unquenchable
thirst are black as tar, filled with
toxins of greed and insatiable need
about to burst,

the foreign palace of perennial sorrow
awaits its redacted fate as adrenaline
addicts in green afraid of boredom
aim their hate,

while these poorly thought plots
for nation building implode once
more and the drowning screamers
of talk radio provoke
and whore,

I ask the serene cerulean sky
as it looks down on this dimming
river of human drama,
the constant current and flow
of rage and roil,
our unfinished story in all
its blue glory:

why can’t unstable mercenaries
and their mad bosses of shock
and awe disarm for good,
shut the fuck up, stay put
on their own
far shore?