The Whore Named War

nuclear-holocaust

The whore named War
lassoed the President,
let him lay
in lascivious arms;

while the Ministers
and the Secretary
and the People
gawked
in violaceous light
she made them come
over and over and over.

Though they hated her
runny-mascara, caking-rouge
mawkish montage,
they loved how she raked
long finger-claws
over clavicles and genitals,
drawing their blood.

She cast spells with the nettles of her hair,
whispered their names with her sulfurous breath
and they echoed hers back
like drunken sleep-walkers.

They loved her more
than the arms of peace
their wives held out to them,
better than the kisses of their children;

they praised the medals
she pinned in their flesh,
fondled her hands
soaked in fear’s urine.

She sent them to mesmerizing lands
where they learned:
mother, father,
wife and brother,
axioms of teachers,
ministries of healing—
naught; all … naught!

They heard her voice
in the desert sirocco;
in Everywhere’s sun
saw her eyes’ anvil;

felt
the shroud of her breath
in the moon of forgetting.

Their nights were green and their eyes feral,
searching mosques and alleys for video monsters,
in death-strewn arcades full of cliches.

The Whore’s V.D. contagioned the nation,
spewed pus from politicians’ mouths,
prattling mewlishly of duty and honor.
Preachers lavished gifts of diamonds and pearls
and fools heaped ostuaries
to “The Greater Cause.”

Her laughter frothed their putrescent lips,
broiled their brains in the basins of skulls.
They loved the rancid milk of her tits,
the hydra-heads of her teeth-lined loins.

To lie closer, they folded their plicate wings,
ate blood and shit and the sweat of each other,
retched their names in history’s spittoon,
lay blear-eyed, dreamed-out, dreamless at last.

Gary Corseri has published two collections of poetry, two novels and a literary anthology (edited) with work by President Jimmy Carter and others. He has published/posted articles, fiction and poems at Countercurrents.org, TranscendMediaService, VeteransNewsNow.org, The New York Times, CounterPunch, Redbook, Common Dreams, Village Voice, DissidentVoice, InformationClearingHouse, Global Research and hundreds of other global sites and publications. His plays have been produced on PBS-Atlanta and he has performed his work at the Carter Presidential Library.

Tags:

Support Countercurrents

Countercurrents is answerable only to our readers. Support honest journalism because we have no PLANET B.
Become a Patron at Patreon

Join Our Newsletter

GET COUNTERCURRENTS DAILY NEWSLETTER STRAIGHT TO YOUR INBOX

Join our WhatsApp and Telegram Channels

Get CounterCurrents updates on our WhatsApp and Telegram Channels

Related Posts

Sundays

I sit still, lethargicAnd add new wordsTo the great tapestryOf female sorrows From a distant cityOver the ruinsOf a war he never foughtA boy cries, there is no wayBack to…

Operation Gold Rush

It's all about the gold.Hasn't it always been?The allure, the beauty of goldin whatever form it takes —wealth, power, fame, ironclad security. In Gaza the rush is on.Tanks, bombs, missiles,…

IN the HUMAN WORLD

In the human worldwe have heroesand villainsand cowards. Those who defend lifetaking risks aboveand beyond self interestthose who destroy lifeand those we do not carewho play games ofselfish detachment and…

Faces

The world is full.Filled with hardships.Filled with courage.Filled with suffering. EverywhereThere are human faces.Everywhere the pathosOf conscious mortality.Everywhere the pathosOf human faces. The world is full. Filled with struggles and…

The First Stone

If it were me in Palestineand I found you on a stretcherin a shell-shocked hospital,I would kneel beside youand take your hand in mine,wipe the blood from your faceand pray…

Join Our Newsletter


Annual Subscription

Join Countercurrents Annual Fund Raising Campaign and help us

Latest News