I wrote this poem who knows how long ago, perhaps well over a decade. I still feel the same way but I’ll add one caveat. Stanza 2 reads like a criticism of soldiers themselves. My beef is with warmongering politicians, etc.
I ain’t got nothing to say to you–
no bumper-sticket warrior fighting
it out with the ass-end of your car.
Ain’t no sense in this one’s fish and that
one’s fish with legs ’cause ain’t no
question that big gonna be solved by
nothing with no adhesive backing.
I ain’t going to join up with you:
no green army man fighting with sand in
your boots when there’s people back home
ain’t got no meat for dinner, specially
if you’re fighting against some other
poor asshole ain’t got no meat for dinner.
That just don’t sound right to me.
I ain’t going to vote no more if I
gotta sit around a month waiting to find
out which sonbitch won the election while
politicians scramble around talking ’bout
sht getting lost and this ballot getting counted
and that one ain’t getting counted like it’s
some kind of high school beauty contest.
Shit, I’m just fed up.
—Sarah Torribio
Leave a Reply