Asleep At The Switch

There were bombs exploding in Iraq
Babies turning blue in the immovable quash of rubble
A government twisting truths into the most
Outrageous kinds of lies
The end-game justifying the means

But no one would believe

The long years of children left behind a hoax
Come to fruition, dusty books that no one
Reads, impossible to distinguish the text from the

Old words make sweet bonfires

The world spinning in a drunken haze
All a blur of light and sound and colorized

The patient on his etherized table his
Hamburger heart pumping beer and blue-eyed
Bimbos into the vain artery of his
American unconscious

O, we may wonder, and O
We may die

Sleep the good sleep

Someday maybe
Someone will wake up, alone to find
And ask the inevitable question
A hundred years too late


Why didn’t anyone try to stop
The madness?

(Previously published in The Hold, Oct. '04)

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Comments (1)

why didnt anyone try to stop the madness? we can still try, can we? this question always confronts humans in the face of evil. is evil winning by the good even becoming evil in the long run? interesting poem indeed.