HISTORY LESSONS

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HISTORY LESSONS

See the walking dead
And the carcasses piled high
Like wood on bonfire night;
Clothes, shoes, hair and jewellery
Neatly stacked in separate heaps

Gaunt history staring us in the face

Confetti droning overhead
Gently napalming young bodies
Flesh peeling
Delta-Mekong dots on the map

Where’s Daddy?
Gone to fight the yellow man

Burning deserts erupting
Below technology-laden skies
Push-button warfare
Timed for peak viewing.

Blind killing-fields

Scorched earth, scorched body;
What’s the difference?

AMERICAN FOOTBALL

GUERRE DU GOLFE / GULF WARuntitled
Harold pinter wrote the following poem as a comment on the Gulf War and the USA involvement in it.
It was rejected for publication by the Independent, the Observer, the Guardian (on the grounds it was ‘a family newspaper’), the New York Review of Books and the London Review of Books. The last named, in particular, aroused Pinter’s ire by accompanying rejection with the assurance that the poem had ‘considerable force’ and that it shared the author’s views on the United States.
Harold says; ‘I started to write this poem on the plane going to the Edinburgh Festival in August 1991. I had a rough draft by the time we landed in Edinburgh. It sprang from the triumphalism, the machismo, the victory parade, that were very much in evidence at the time. So that is the reason for “We blew the shit out of them.”‘ Most editors used the words ‘obscene’ justify its non-publication. But that is the whole point:This poem uses obscene words to describe obscene acts and obscene attitudes.’
I GUESS NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED SINCE PINTER WROTE IT IN 1991

AMERICAN FOOTBALL
Hallelullah!
It works.
We blew the shit out of them.

We blew the shit right back up their own ass
And out their fucking ears.

It works.
We blew the shit out of them.
They suffocated in their own shit!

Hallelullah.
Praise the Lord for all good things.

We blew them into fucking shit.
They are eating it.

Praise the Lord for all good things.

We blew their balls into shards of dust,
Into shards of fucking dust.

We did it.

Now I want you to come over here and kiss me on the mouth.

HISTORY LESSONS

   

HISTORY LESSONS

 See the walking dead

And the carcasses piled high

Like wood on bonfire night;

Clothes, shoes, hair and jewellery

Neatly stacked in separate heaps

 

Gaunt history staring us in the face

 

Confetti droning overhead

Gently napalming young bodies

Flesh peeling

Delta-Mekong dots on the map

 

Where’s Daddy?

Gone to fight the yellow man

 

Burning deserts erupting

Below technology-laden skies

Push-button warfare

Timed for peak viewing.

 

Blind killing-fields

 

Scorched earth, scorched body;

What’s the difference?

taken from my new collection of poetry ’67’  http://www.tinhuttalespublishers.co.uk/67/