John-Michael Gariepy

Battles are never pretty, and your dreams

Battles are never pretty,

and your dreams

are misleading.  When two armies switch

weapons, it is the soldiers

who lose.  Yet, when bugles call,

they hasten swords and shoulders

trusting in the wisdom of those who envision

for them (because if they planned

the deaths they commit, the shame

would take with it; the fight).

Still you command a legion

of insecurities and manias,

compelled to rage against all

who stand.  Will warefare’s toll

have value when we are both

defeated; our mutual desires strewn,

exhausted, against arm’s theater? Or,

will it end like war ends: Inconclusive

and obscure – planting the weapons of war

in hopes of an abundant harvest.

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