Poem by Steve Day
Walk upon the rubble In the Odessa Bar
of Jerusalem, they were drinking shell shock from the clouds,
by whatever name this place is known no one loves them as much as this;
walk upon the rubble, except perhaps their own camouflage leaders.
and the collateral crucifixion, Imported weapons of missile mass
the philistines who mine the Palestine line now saturate the sky
of the Gaza Sunset Strip. and glow like the Second Coming avengers
Saviours and survivors, from someone else’s Armageddon.
all people who need to name Blame, a weak sweet honey tea,
their country. it slips easily down the throat whilst
What has become written in blood the circle of sand
is now dried in the intense heat in Red Square
of yet another suicide. wrecks a bitter herb of havoc.
These deaths breed like Sanctioned Port of Call, refugees
brides and grooms of slaughter. swallowing smoke and salt.
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