Arts Listings

For Jesse 

All armies seem the same— 

They strut with the chins of dullards 

In a sentimental vise of duty,  

A synchronous mating of unripened men 

While the elders watch, saluting— 

In China, in North Korea, all over the planet 

The dead seriousness of patriotic 

Stupification, the vulgar sentiment 

To protect family, Country, and some God. 

All armies seem the same—the elders 

Salute, are proud, know that the ranks  

Emptied of anonymous cadavers 

Will again be filled by the raw youth 

Who vibrate in their chains with images 

Of heroism, never imagining the  

swimming 

Of bloody limbs before them.  

These are the gifts of mothers and family 

A gift returned with metal or casket— 

These are the ceremonial rites  

Which make the deepest evil into virtue. 

All armies seem the same to me,  

They beat to a metronome of a false blessing,  

They march to a symphony of  

blaming. 

All armies seem the same to me: 

The elders salute, promise is impaled.