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MIDDLE
EAST AND AFRICAN
The
powerful practitioners of peace
deploy
for Desert Storm. Sulking contentions—
squatting
on oil or squaring for it—face.
The
muddle of imperial alliance
gaze
at the mega-barrels of triple crude
like
alcoholics twitched by their addictions.
The
Enemy, who dared invade Kuwait,
refines
his grease to stock bacteria,
jealous
of mass destruction he’s denied.
•
But
I, where man began, almost leper,
must
see crops spoil because the loans are gone.
My
sons tote guns. Their
lorries rut and totter.
I
do not hate, no hate is left to gain
from
what I have consumed. All that I wish
is
family pasture, irrigation, sun.
But
powerful practitioners are in place.
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