Poof* Take MY water

poetry
is the purest
form of journalism
in an age stripped
of its innocence
.
where the huddled masses
are reeling from the latest
upgraded Halliburton version
of the vietnam war
.
as children of the eighties
we wore throwback peace signs
waxed romantic for woodstock
and tie dyed everything
because we wanted in on the optimism
the blatant irreverence
we wanted a hit off their cause
.
now we have our own vietnam
and our children are craving
the eighties
laughably
a time we considered
a decade of decadence
coining the phrase greed is good
yet they view it as a simpler time
.
i suppose
that is the natural order of things
in an unnatural world
.
besides
in the eighties
we still had food
that would biodegrade
because it wasn’t
made from polymers
.
pete rose
didn’t break my town’s heart
’til 89
after having made it swell to heaven
in 84
.
don’t make direct contact with another human
don’t believe anything the government tells you is the truth
and don’t drink the water
as mr. murrow would say
ladies and gentlemen…
good night, and good luck
the news man says rebels have once
again taken over parts of iraq
and all i can think of is
that blonde haired
blue eyed boy
they captured
in a convoy
the one they took video of
with guns to his head
then beheaded
before they burned his body
and strung it up in the street
that blonde haired
blue eyed boy who went to my high school
who died for a government’s lies
planting seeds of democracy
that blonde haired
blue eyed boy
who is the reason
the little community where i grew up
will never stop hanging up yellow ribbons
oh yes
mr. president
redeploy
as if we ever left
let’s make sure these wars are mistakes
that keep on giving