Killer

Patriotism,
Conquest, Bragging Rights—
Those macho muses
Strap on swords and guns,
Rap rat-a-tat-tat,

Fight amongst themselves,
Give themselves fresh scars,
Fresh ink, new weapons.
Poetry knows them,
Always has. Bore them,

Nursed them, taught them how
To improve their boasts,
Be warriors, plant flags.
Don’t think it hasn’t.
Flyting and jousting,

Praising murderers,
Singing of battles
Won, peoples slaughtered—
Poetry has had
Bloody hands always,

Always. Poetry
At its most ancient
Loves power as truth.
Don’t let it fool you.
It’s full of itself.