Pornography of War

Posted: May 9, 2012 in So called Poetry

With each sensual finger,
War beckoned.
The rifles screamed
come!
The tanks groaned
come!
The mortars whispered
come!
Only the dead men said
No!
But the posters cried
NOW!

And now,
we watch the excitement
on small, grainy screens;
horrified, panting, aroused,
as real people are obliterated.
Because peace is never as seductive
as the pornography of war.

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