I usually keep the two worlds my writing inhabits separate, but on occasion the political world intrudes upon the literary one, and I can make myself heard better in poetry than in ten thousands words of prose. – Steven
Sonnet in a time of drones
Rage in your hearts, my friends, but not your minds
for the anger you feel may not be sound.
Nor does your hatred, earned or just, align
with barriers in place upon the ground.
You wave that bloody rag. We understand
the grief by which revenge is justified.
But tears that fall as salted waves on sand
obscure clear sight, and terrors from us hide.
Look up and see the vultures overhead
circle and circle round the killing fields.
They wait to feast on those you would make dead
but death’s an investment with paltry yields
except for vermin, scavengers and flies
who do not care where bombs fall from the skies.
