by Kirsten Ashenbrenner

Each Morning I Turn on the War

Each morning I turn on the war
and it's the same as before.
I want to unsubscribe, but I stare and compare.
I am obliged and alive, held and tore,
to watch how they die and how they survive.

The war goes on and on and on;
a terrible sin; a no win situation,
death by car-bomb and mutilation.
I tremble and I waff,
in disgust, I turn it off.

It's the tragic horror that I abhor;
I don't want to see it anymore.

ABC, BBC, CSPAN and CNN
talk about it more and more, until they bore;
and civilians are dying while the ratings soar.

Still, each morning, I turn on the war

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Poetry: Anger

by Kirsten Ashenbrenner

Poetry: Anger

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