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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/659169
by Peep
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Experience · #659169
A Commentary Poem on War Commentary
Two Helicopters collided, and I brushed my teeth on Saturday morning.

A British journalist died, and I crawled back in bed and watched cable TV, tucked under a down comforter.

A friendly Patriot pulled a fighter from the sky, and I placed hamburgers on the grill, and ate homemade apple pie with family that afternoon.

Ten Marines died and I moved ten spaces from "Just Visiting" to "Free Parking," and rolled the dice again - for them.

US POWS gazed a telepathic "I'm, OK" to Mom and Dad through a wide-angle lens, and I kissed my daughter's cheek and turned out the light on Sunday night.

Smoke smothered Bagdad, and I took a breath on my back porch, downed a Czech beer, and toasted CNN for their "Live Coverage" - 24/7 access to the boys and girls in red, white and blue representing!

I switched over to Trading Spaces and considered letting my neighbor redecorate my home and thought better of it.

I crawled back in bed with a box of fortune cookies and ate 5 without reading their futures - one for each of the bullet-ridden bodies the US thought better of me seeing.

I chased back a Pepsi and wondered why I did not see TV commercials on NBC. "This war brought to you by Coca Cola, what the Real men drink!

Or "Mountain Dew, Dew the Desert this time Dude! And "Servicemen this season wear fleece from Lands' End" and "Ashleigh Banfield's new spring fashion courtesy of Banana Republic, select your Bio Warfare Mask in Gaseous Gray or Buffy Black Blast."

How about this commercial, "Communications brought to the front line by Sprint. Don't let your supply lines take the wrong turn, guarantee the next time you say, 'Fit cots and food in the rear,' they won't hear "get lost and shot up like deer!"

I woke up on day 5 and drove into the city.
A sniper shot a soldier while I sat in traffic on Mopac.

I watched our flag hang at the top of a pole where there was no wind.

My motor hummed to the tune of tanks half a world away, and my head hurt for the wounds I couldn't see on American television.

I lit a cigarette although I have quit, and the smoke hung low above Bagdad.

© Copyright 2003 Peep (pameyer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/659169