There were bombs exploding in Iraq
Babies turning blue in the immovable quash of rubble
A government twisting truths into the most
Outrageous kinds of lies
The end-game justifying the means
But no one would believe
The long years of children left behind a hoax
Come to fruition, dusty books that no one
Reads, impossible to distinguish the text from the
Con
Old words make sweet bonfires
The world spinning in a drunken haze
All a blur of light and sound and colorized
Image
The patient on his etherized table his
Hamburger heart pumping beer and blue-eyed
Bimbos into the vain artery of his
American unconscious
O, we may wonder, and O
We may die
Sleep the good sleep
Someday maybe
Someone will wake up, alone to find
And ask the inevitable question
A hundred years too late
Why?
Why didn't anyone try to stop
The madness?