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Blown World 

Now hurricanes, tornadoes, tempest, and storms 
blow dust from the book jackets of history.
Now the cobwebbed narratives of the past fly away, 
and with them all its secrets.

Now in the shifting sand, 
consumed in alliance by the uniforms they share, 
those who follow,
soldier their way from battlefield to battlefield,
to plant upon some desolate dune
a flag pole 
hailing victory.

Now unmanned forces judge the fabric of your cloth and skin, 
targeting the resolve of doubting hearts.
Now, though these peaceful feet march, 
their diplomatic heads appear as helms of war,

Now this truancy from the past
communicates its ignorance in neatly folded military stripes
Reinforcing arsenals which paint us all 
in a camouflage of poverty and debt.

Now god-willed messengers command god-fearing equals to crusades or jihads, 
expose their myths, with confinement and torture.
Now, this calamity of the free, 
consigns peace to a cage of futility,

And now, so mirror-like are foe and friend alike
we become replaced by overcrowding cenotaphs.

8/3/03