After 1945

After 1945

in an overpowering geography
carved from a century of wars
let us be done with absolutes
the black and white of things

from marble into ruble
into skyscrapers
that will turn to ruble,
nothing lasts

Rising and falling,
there are no great wars,
no tiny wars only horrible ones,
each a hateful fist
in your face slamming into the teeth
of preconceived ideas
making all our pasts
impotent.

No pure race no pure thought
no pure people no pure art
no pure poetry no good war
worth destroying over.

The only war worth dying for
is inside of you
and you will know it
when it comes to that.

J. Scott Malby

Posted over on Motherbird