Schools render
history a glossy
thing like shiny
car commercials
that ignore
pollution and
the mangled
wrecks and
the dead piled
up on the
side of the road,
a history devoid
of the stench
and ripped flesh
and the cries
of the tortured,
a history turned,
instead, into
watched with
buckets of popcorn
in mall theaters
history as palliative,
then, as patriotic
music, as cover
for the dark
of assassins,
a blood history
of theft, a lying
history proudly
singing the
national anthem
before every
school assembly
with the young
at attention,
obedient, waiting
their turn.

Paul Lojeski's poetry has appeared in journals and online. He’s also the author of the satiric novel, The Reverend Jimmy Pup. He lives with his wife and daughter in Port Jefferson, NY. Read other articles by Paul.