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by George Hoerner

we kick and stab
every day at the monster
we call existence but
we still have not been
able to kill this beast
we love and hate with
such intensity we leave
the womb with a wild scream
an image of things to come

war after war each one
larger or more devastating
than the previous because
our knowledge of two things
science and death are pursued by
those whose very existence is
dependent upon war continuing

we can’t keep counting
people will catch on ‘maybe’
so change to smaller regional wars
and name them accordingly
Korea, and Vietnam,
let’s take a short breather and
build some more specialized weapons
we’ll tell everyone this is called


Posted on 01/24/2017
Copyright © 2023 George Hoerner

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Paul Lastovica on 01/27/17 at 03:33 AM

I sort of quietly pray for a cataclysmic event to wipe us all out before we invent the horrors of actual deep-space warfare; I've read too much sci-fi to want to live in that time, or have my child have to face that day herself. Peace is an illusion, but a noble aspiration all the same. Maybe one day... maybe.

Posted by Tim D Livingston on 04/05/17 at 11:48 PM

Very thought-provoking! I like how it starts with our stabbing at our own existence as a foreshadowing of what is to come in this war called life. Very true about this little breather. More like reloading for the next round.

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