Issue 6: Dialectic vs Antinomy
A Publication of the USF MFA in Writing Program

Every minute's a crescent moon, deep gorges  
Carved into skin's softest bleeding places.   
Never trust men with messianic dreams,   
Whose glassy eyes gleam with enemy fatalities.   
No such thing as saviors in the middle of war's   
Open stretches of horizon, nowhere to run.   
It begins, the opening act of this war theatre  
Brought to you by global media corporation's  
Reek and ooze of sanitized liberation bullshit -  
Crude oil and gas prices skyrocket,  
And so let us bomb them all to kingdom come,  
Cradle of western antiquity, Lion of Babylon.  
Let us crumble all the oil-swollen Arab families  
To rubble - and remake the savage of history.  
In this land of the crescent moon, white supremacists howl.   
Jetfighters shoot their loads upon oil fields ablaze.   
Tactical advisors stroke their missiles,   
Jam radio frequencies, and fall from grace   
Again and again, at the mouth of biblical rivers.  
This ain't no Garden of Eden no more, so stand tall.  
Jitters? Bite Down. Bite Down. Don't feel. Bite harder.  
Just brace yourself and blow, son. It's time to test your mettle.  
After the bombs' initial shock and awe   
Reigning down sandstorms, it's business as usual -  
Demilitarized zone advances, rehearsed suicide   
Obedience. Dig a hole in the desert to sleep at night.   
Keep your boots and gas mask on. Read the subtext:   
This ain't no dress rehearsal. This is what happens next.   
Instruments of devil-may-care offensive campaigns,   
Military hard-on's for such brutal desire -  
Young Americans birth gang rape over card games.  
Veiled virgins bleed. Stripped bodies stacked and wired.  
Prisoner pornography, this perverse inventory  
Naked and hooded for Polaroids (Thumbs up! Hi mom!),  
Dragged by the penis, sodomized with efficiency,   
Souls crushed under boots, phosphoric acid ablution.   
When we come to lust for war, we cease to be human.    
Killing and fucking machines, medaled and ribboned,  
Obscene creatures trained to administer shame.  
Ugly Americans, pissing on the corpses we've burned.  
Taunting the enemy in mass graves, we lord over  
Unnamed bones of starved and tortured third world soldiers.  
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