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oppositional poetry, prose, polemic
Lynn White
Gaza in Fall
In the rain of the rockets
there’s no water.
Metal rain.
In the rain of the rockets
there’s no sunshine.
Smoke rain.
Black rain.
In the rain of the rockets
there’s no life.
Death rain.
Life ending rain.
Death without life rain.
In the rain of the rockets
there’s no hope.
Deaf rain.
Death rain
Death refrain
..............
Ground Force Gaza
This poem is an update.
I wish it wasn’t.
The original was written in 2014.
I didn’t expect to write a sequel,
but here we are again.
One hour to leave
carrying what you can
knowing everything you love
will be destroyed
behind you.
Who could do this?
People could not do it.
Could not do the things they did.
Soldiers.
Things in uniform obeying orders,
yes sir no sir-ing their way into oblivion.
They could do it.
They would do anything, if told to.
Humanity suspended or cuckooed.
Killing machines, destroyers of dreams,
burying them in the rubble with the bits.
With the bits of bodies,
the hands and the feet,
the breasts and the balls.
Things in uniform.
Daleks of death.
They could do it.
Maybe if enough things die
they will stop their slaughter.
Maybe if enough things die
they will become extinct
like the dodo,
the stuff of legend
like the unicorn.
I hope so.
Lynn White © 2024