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I was thinking of nothing and began to doze
In daydream, visions and images grievous
And horrible. Murder and mayhem notable
For its commonness that did not obligate
The bloody bastards to remorse, or to make
Apology for human lives they sent to scrap.

The weak, begging morsels from the strong for scrap
Of food, of shelter, of hope, while victors doze
In gruesome fields of rape and ruin, no thought to make
A lovely land of peace with no more grievous
Fear and loss. Instead, terror! To obligate
Each timid man and woman a notable

Threat, beyond what is reasonable, notable
For its ugliness, for its horror, a dung scrap
Pile to crawl into, to hide, not obligate
Reality to now. To remember, to doze
In reflection of moments soft, before grievous
Fists struck our faces, knees to our testicles to make

Us know pain while dying delayed. Time will not make
These last threads of life, reflections, more notable
As skin is peeled away in acid burn so grievous
That whiteness blurs in shrieks unheard, so much scrap
To bury in boredom. Lingered torture, senseless doze,
They are doing their jobs well, they must obligate

Themselves to their superiors who must obligate
Themselves to their superiors who will make
A final decision. We know, even as we doze
Intensely, in and out of consciousness, notable
For extremes—our bodies will soon join the scrap
Heap of other bodies in a grave so grievous

That decay and stench will rise to heaven grievous
To explain creation’s purpose and obligate
The rogue bastards in their bloody quest to scrap
Our lives so frivolously. Bodies tossed to make
A pyre of flesh and bone, lives untold, notable
For simplicity, faith and love, lost, darkly doze

Until anger from awakened generations’ doze
Returns power and strength to the weak, with notable
Changes and hope. These are dreams we wish to make.



© 2003 Thomas A. Ekkens