george w. bush does not live in perpetual war
tonight the missiles
are flying in the middle east again
another cartoon tough-guy president
is dick-wagging the only kind of freedom
that america has got
the freedom to destroy
i’m drinking beer
but daydreaming vodka
and the upstairs neighbor
has decided to buff her floors
on a hopeless tuesday night
making it impossible to think or read
but i think of you tonight
george w. bush
i think of you always when the missiles fly
retired
and in your texas mansion
eight years of horror
and hundreds of thousands of deaths on your hands
brushed off like dust on your shoulder
painting pictures of soldiers
that you helped get killed
fat from another barbeque
after another one of your paid speeches
a contented international terrorist
farting on his plush couch
watching reruns of rangers games
putting back a bowl full of pretzels
i think about how
you don’t live in perpetual war
george w. bush
how easy it must be to hide
under that legacy and your daddy’s money
writing shitty memoirs
coming out every so often
to play the loveable idiot
having michelle obama give you candy
tonight
there are kids, george w. bush
some adults now really
who’ve never lived
without war
without their moms and dads being shipped away
or living somewhere in a village
hoping not to get blown up
by one of our corporate, freedom bombs
or buried in the dirt
never getting to have once inch
of the privileged life you’ve lived
i think of you tonight
george w. bush
lost in the quiet
of your overgrown home
as i lay here stone-cold sober
on my own couch, hating you
as the neighbors buffing machine roars on ad nauseum
and the bombs fly for nothing
but some rich boy's ego
yet again.
--John Grochalski
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