by Mary Saracino
Three thousand lies stain the duplicitous lips
of our oval office oracles,
three thousand excuses to surge
& accelerate, three thousand slogans
to rouse the weary, justify deployment,
as if war was a fanciful diversion,
an innocuous amusement to placate
children easily distracted by the clang of wheels
climbing skyward, every eye glued
to the curve of track, every heart racing,
every belly bracing as the speeding coaster
plunges into the abyss. Three thousand thrilling screams,
three thousand mouths agape, three thousand molars
rattling as the wind rushes into spaces once occupied
by howling, truth-telling tongues. Our breath, like our conscience,
has been stolen — silenced by three thousand decibels
of misinformation, three thousand reasons why
invasion equated national security, why violence
begat freedom, democracy, decency. Three thousand
oil-mongering motives erased the lives
of three thousand sweethearts, three thousand
sons & daughters, three thousands souls sacrificed
to arrogance, greed, the gods of power & might;
three thousand ghosts tally the dead, hover
above the blood-stained sand, keeping watch,
asking: Why, why, why?
Mary Saracino is a novelist, memoir writer, and poet who lives in Denver, CO. Her latest novel, The Singing of Swans, is available at www.pearlsong.com or ask for it at your local bookstore.
