Poetry Blogs (2013, Geneva Convention)
As war’s abrasion strips his fine veneer
man’s inhumanity his ilk defines.
Bi-pedal dog, scent-primed, unleashed, packed off
he brings a licking to some wrong-tongued foe.
While back in civvy-street, his leaders rise
short-slept from tasting civilized excess
this day newborn in sinless rectitude
to move their boarded pawns with gifted guess.
In blinkered ignorance of C...
Friday 8th November 2013 9:14 pm