The metallic sound you hear,
all too familiar,
is that of sabers
rattled in their scabbards.

Two factions form
another line in the sand,
or the mountains,
or the manmade border
that can’t be seen from space.

Rhetoric escalates,
more strident every day,
as the monster in the box
claws at the walls
slavering to get out.

01/02/2002

Posted on 01/02/2002
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