Falujah And 42nd Airborne (Iraq War) - Poem by Philip Housiaux
Uncounted Iraqi cities dead
achilles hung the history bleed
out, crimes to hide, conquest
vile, ordered by false prophets.
Blood clinging heavy the rafters
butcher hooks, melting neurones
memories of entire towns death grown.
History dendrites cling to axonal
centuries, a change civilisational
for there, writing broke the stone.
Deepening red hanging descent
the invaders napalm bomb vented:
fire-stormed oxygen from knowledge
some day, students not discuss in college.
Heavy Schwann cell fat forgets
into droplets, now varicose red.
Detaching, falling, puddling moan
another now black-red stone
on the dirty Iraqi concrete
where Levant heat hardens, in street
for decades and centuries scented.
Two Atlantic mosquitoes
on sweat smell of blood, with no shoes
match sticks crossed mating throws
in the not yet set, congealed glue.
Vast scallops of sulphurous fumes
not coincidences fallen comets:
but unequal conquests unnamed tombs
thousands whisked to omelette
of rotten eggs, gag and vomit.
Thus the hand of the penitent
on dangerous Arab extremists:
thinking, a duty to fight back
die, repelling the Kofar attack.
And as the false prophet said
“In the battle for Bagdad
the United States
and its allies, are victorious”:
two classes of man, glorious
Zion and oil on dollar rates.
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