They told us this war would never end
so we signed up for the duration;
after all, job security.
There was some surplus left over from the War on Drugs,
and we helped ourselves.
At least, this would provide armor
against the tedium
of waiting forever to be terrorized.
The reading matter we had to pass the time
included pamphlets about the earlier wars,
all worthwhile, all still inconclusive:
on cancer, heart disease, cerebral palsy,
lupus, and hirsutism.
And then, there were the inspirational books:
Coping with Nameless Dread,
How to Fear Practically Everything,
How to Win Enemies & Alienate People,
and other trenchant works.
Finally, we got the full message:
insecurity was our only security.
Shaking in our boots,
and glad to be doing so,
we waited for the other shoe to fall.
By Duane Ackerson
5 comments:
Woa ... that final stanza is a beauty! Where did you get this one from: it is a new poem/poet to me and talking of current engagements.
I love the chestnut horse and the light you have captured. Bloody bus signs ...
Ha! I like those bus signs! They sort of puts the picture in context...ish
Anyway I didn't know anything about the poet until yesterday. I Googled war, terror, poem and this poem was about half-way down the results page.
Duane Ackerson is an American (b.1942)and this poem was written in 2007 and called "The War On Terror".
Interesting, was wondering which war it related to, didn't quite seem to be Vietnam. New poet to me as well.
A great tribute for Anzac Day.
Sydney - City and Suburbs
Striking and dramatic. The poem is right on!
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