Weaponized Condolences of a Warfare State

Blood, guts, severed heads and limbs
litter rubble. Blood has not had time to
coagulate. Wall Street piranha cry
crocodile tears on terror. Opening bomb
bays, their “Hearts go out,” $110,000 a pop.
Job-creators of ruin, gift themselves another

It could have been Port au Prince, Kinshasa,
Tripoli, Damascus, Baghdad, Boston, London,
NYC. But this time, it was The City of Lights.
Some of us listen to leaders without legs to
stand on, fooling fools and babies. We were
Briefly innocent; never naïve around shocking,
Awful carnage in our names—crimes against

The hospital bombing, Nobel Peace Prize-
winning war criminal cries anti-freeze tears.
Palestinians Feel the Bern of white phosphorus
in corporate catechism: “Yes, we can” seamlessly
wage endless war, and do regime “Change you
can believe in.” It’s still the New Amerikkkan Century
And a Golda-plated Iron Lady Rusts In Peace, waiting
on the wings of a Predator drone. She grows impatient
to Start smearing the paint—crimson, ivory, navy—
for War!

Electoral Lilliputians lost their minds and moral
compasses, trading organizing for orgasm with the
2nd Coming of Christ. They were once Anti-war
Activists. Now they’re just junkies with 7-year
itches—8-year hitches; eunuchs and nuns taking
Mule dung wafer vows of silence; worms, crawling
around searching for imaginary openings to ‘organize’
on the Commander’s watch.

The world can’t wait for them to become clean and
The world can’t wait for them to quit organizing
Halloween parties. Parties dressing bogeymen on
elephants as the end of the world; War criminals
on mules as Mother Theresa, scaring out the vote;
Helping fuel the Wehrmacht with Fear!

Former forklift driver/warehouse worker/janitor, Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. Read other articles by Raymond Nat, or visit Raymond Nat's website.