He wants a new language!
Ratta-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat!
The old one’s full of homonyms
That sound too much like war:
“Military-industrial”; “Humvee”;
“Bombs bursting in air”;
“Predator”; “duty … honor … country. …”
BAM! Ker-pling! Ka-boom! BAM!
Even “pride,” even “love”–
Drafted into service.
Every word has a medal
Stapled on its buttocks.
Every word’s a hero
In an honor-guard casket
With a flag drooling over.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat. …
S p l a t !
Armor-piercing bullets say,
“Accept the world as it is!”
The shock and awe of their logic
Like cancer in children’s dreams.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom….
BAM!
Guns talk to guns–
A crimson tete-a-tete.
Nothing succeeds like excess.
Under the din of mourning–
Litigious sirens wail.
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
There is no light except for
Laser-guided missiles … and … possibly
Whoosh!
Enhanced night-vision goggles.