individual victories are few
for those unheard voices
having restricted choices
and few precious resources
you know I don’t have to be here
he reassured himself
keeping warm from layered clothing
mentally digging in for the night
mercenaries from the past
march alongside enemies of the state
chanting slogans in ancient languages
only few understand
december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
row after row of desktop
computers play leapfrog in a
pentagon controlled pole barn
outside angry peasants wave
baseball bats and throw
expletives at robotic guards
as night collapsed into chaos
revolutionaries trade flashlights
for burning man torches
lights darting above oversee
armed forces hellbent on
accelerating the tipping point
morning fog surrenders to man
and his drum machines
moving on to the next outpost
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
