Poem: Our Penchant for Bombing

If you had a million billion dollars with which you could

Do anything you please

Would you build a schoolhouse or a hospital or

Bring Arabs to their knees?

 

If the purse strings of the Treasury were under

Your control

Would you vaccinate a child or

Blow up a larger hole?

 

With riches unseen since the day’s of Nero

Our republic aches for a newly minted hero

Whose sense of Christian charity extends beyond the pieties

Espoused with tender viciousness from the pulpits and the altars, where

“Love thy fellow man” has been besmirched by connotations of faggot marriage, and

“Turn thy other cheek” is reserved for ninny liberals too cowardly to stand up

To the darkly bearded lice that infiltrate our shopping malls.

Blessed with God’s favor — and more than a fair share of his armaments — we can do

Something.

 

Our bombs were built to flatten and eliminate

Not to sit impotently inside a crate.

 

On judgment day the lord (ours not theirs) will sort out

The sinners and the saints.

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