Suffering under the bombs of the pilots,
putting the terror in the War to Make Horror,
putting the drama into the swollen vignettes.
The pilots accessing their hits with Internet Explorer.
In the rubble the the numb ones stumble,
like a morning you can't find your keys
reaching the exponential
where what's left is best described by Noam Chomsky.
Raised on ego enhancing flim flam,
the bombers maintain their gruesome innocence.
Clocked into a clinical environment,
Clued in to the necessity of silencing lambs,
it's bombs away until the scanners detect the look of acquiescence.
The war strategy historians are excited by the new material,
They make recommendations , they're very managerial.
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