C.B. Anderson poems 2 | The Recusant

C.B. Anderson

Spend It

Economies don't always work the way
It's thought they should -- in other words, they're fickle.
At times they seem to vindicate the trickle-
Down theory: rich folks raking in the hay
Who have so much to spare that they can pay
Big bucks to proles who'd settle for a nickel.
At other times the hammer and the sickle
Appear to hold the world within their sway.

The yen, the U.S. dollar, or the Euro
Locked up inside a miser's bedroom bureau
Bespeaks a moribund economy.

The pen that signs a check is much more mighty
Than any sword -- more fair than Aphrodite! --
And isn't just a stale metonymy.

Ain't Gonna Study Peace No More

This talk of peace is such an awful bore,
Enough to make a soldier lose his mind.
Let's go, young men, it's time to start a war

So we can take our fill of blood and gore.
Forget about good will to humankind,
For talk of peace is such an awful bore,

But think instead of pain and death galore.
To see how well our wiring is designed,
Let's go, young men, it's time to start a war

Where mayhem's rush will make us fight for more.
Those pencil-necks nonviolently inclined,
Whose talk of peace is such an awful bore,

We'll deal with later, on our second tour.
You'll hate yourselves if you get left behind --
Let's go, young men, it's time. To start a war

Does not require a cause worth fighting for,
Just lethal outcomes tactically defined,
And talk of peace is such an awful bore.
Let's go, young men, it's time to start a war!