Pearls Before Swine (Unless it Comes Straight from the Shell)

I admire conviction
as much as your throat -
this lie set in stone that you shout
from the mountain tops...
and I sigh the range on fire.

These fragile flames, they hear me
and respond in visions,
the holy heads of strangers
hung low...
I watch in sorrow.

I've seen a little girl drenched in flames
dragging a village to hell,
crying to be held
and fed
something other than
American tactics.

I'd like to crown her head with dandelions,
criss-cross the stems
and tell her that communism is a choice
she does not need to defend
or battle against.

I've seen a mother drown her baby boy
in broad daylight,
hesitating fingers tucked into gloves of go,
for the love of god,
Go tell us

of the flesh eating beasts that crossed your path,
wound their teeth with string,
and played puppet
with their master.
He's done nothing

but moved you with his voice
and illusions -
a delusional sense of
now.

The past two months are floating,
dying out like flames
while you gaze out,
holy and proud
awaiting a time
to play with blame.