What if war were just a chaotic dress rehearsal in a school play and torture were long philosophical conversations with idiots, bullets, tiny bits of lint culled from laughing soldier's uniforms, fighter jets, kites dropping from the shoulders of the sun, warships, marshmallows floating in a sea of hot chocolate, and tanks, funny little cars full of tumbling clowns? O! If only it were so then all of the world's hideous warmongers might be paper dolls in rooms full of beautiful children, each with a pair of scissors... © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman Demand a Ceasefire in Gaza Now!
(The Weaver's Song)