“Shoot The Medics First!”

We were standing about outside the ‘Soup Kitchens’
… robbing the downtrodden, weaker stragglers
of whatever warmer clothing they’d scavenged…
when the Jackal snatched the Dove of Peace
right outta the fucking air in front of us…
“That’s not allowed, is it?” gasped someone,
and we all laughed, as we listened
to the bones crack and crush like woodland twigs
… within the Glorious and Powerful Jaws Of War.
“The Rioters have started petrol bombing
the Fire Engines… and, oh my God, but…
the Clanging and Banging of distant Artillery…
sounds like the Lord ‘Himself’ is amongst us.”
‘Viva La Revolution’… has been spray-painted
across every bullet-holed billboard and signpost.
The ‘Man’, fat with Greed, gravy-dripping grossly
down his multi-layered chin… is grinning…
as he waves-in ‘copters, and directs the Vultures
to come clean-up the bloody mess behind them.
“It’s a fucking Symphony!” he yells from the belly,
“A heart-warmingly sinister ‘Day Of Reckoning’
… we broke you down with old-fashioned Poverty,
handicapped you with False-Promises…
and demolished ‘Family Structures’ with Taxes,
and man-made Diseases… confused you with
‘Riddles’, ‘Nonsensical Jargon’ and bare-faced
‘Lies’… Too late to Retaliate… Today you Burn!!!”
Unite? We’d already ‘Turned Upon Each Other’
years before… we ‘Took To No Hills’…
for they were all owned, barricaded and guarded…
we grouped in small numbers, down in the sewers
like vermin… until, rounded-up and farmed-out…
as Workhorses, Violent Entertainment and Fertilizer.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.