Wheels

27 Feb 2010

They were serving in cold mountain passes in Afghanistan
They were living in metal containers in Baghdad
They were getting married left and right
And he was sitting in a cabin in Sweden typing fieldnotes.
And he was happy
cause the more he read
the more home video he watched of the bombing of Baghdad
taking by his contacts in the city
the more political bullshit he watched on the news, removed from American soil
the more he hated the giant corrupt political-economical self-interests
turning the wheels.

The axel never has to touch the road
You change tires when they are worn out
All his friends were the rubber being burned
to make some people 'free'
and make some select few rich
Even Murtha, rest his soul
had his fair share of shady moneydeals
it made me sick
and to kill, to risk life
for such an engine
is not something he could abide

But he thought of them
and he did not judge them in the least
and he hoped they survived
physically and mentally
and found happiness
because they were family, in the way suffering makes family, and absolute trust
and they were selfless bastards
drunkards, womanizers, killers, but brave and trustworthy
which is more than he could say for the hordes of others he had seen
eyes glossed over in ignorance
hearts glossed over with greed
minds glossed over in selfishness or apathy

It's funny to want the wheels to come off the wagon for their own sake
so the rest of the diseased carriage can reap its just rewards.