In honor of the slaughter of civilians in Gaza I am reposting an old poem.
The Killing Machine
The killing machine eats the bodies of the young men
and women whose ideals brought them to the front lines.
Gnashing its teeth, it grinds flesh and bone into
meal to feed the dogs of war.
Bullets, bombs and chemicals, are its inner workings.
What better way for the machine to survive than to give
the enemy what it desires and then kill them for having it.
The headlines list the body count and the horrible ways they die.
To do good is its guise, support democracy, set people free.
But it cares for nothing but money and power
and strives only for its survival, wearing death like a
expensive suit and spreading its lies like the finest honey.
And the dogs of war howl for more, always hunting, always hungry,
waiting, to start the machine and send it to a new country where
people need to be free. And there, its democracy will spread,
and the men and women of the front lines will die once more.