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.