A day’s work

A bullet, across,
an indian amulet,
a grandpa’s WWII dogtag,
a Koala bear
anything to serve as charm
& steer clear of suicide bombers
& ambushes
for tunnel-visioned soldiers
doing their round
for Uncle Sam.
Spiderweb prayers
in the shadow of sand valleys
of Iraq –
Continents away
from the airconditioned rooms
of Pentagon
where fossil generals
& a president
conduct, over chuckles & coffee,
scenario games,
to bring a country to heel,
then chauffered home,
sighing how tough the day was
& how badly they need
a goodnight sleep.

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