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Thursday, January 08, 2009

Occupation 101



Since the invasion began on the Strip I have been feeling ill
Carrying the thought with me all the time
The images in my head of children in dark cellars waiting
For ambush and booby traps for tanks and cylindrical death
Falling from the skies or opening up the earth
Beneath the feet of the fleeing fighting fearing mass

At night the blood stays behind my eyelids closed
Full as I am with the fragments sent out to a world
Indifferent to the fire which raises these messages
To a wind that is sour and poisonous for all
Dreams of mad death in a broken stone prison
Take me into a world of pain than is a circle

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