by Best Poem
Visit from a War
When the war came to visit, he said,
“I won’t stay long.”-years later,
we’re still bringing him soft
drinks and pretzels. “I promise,
tomorrow I’ll go, for certain”-
but tomorrow is a lie detector
which records the war’s every whopper. Besides,
the war knows we could kick his sorry ass out,
but our cars have sex with him while we sleep.
Engines tell us how deeply they’ve fallen for war,
how they can’t live without him. It’s a weird
triangle because we adore our cars,
more than our partners, more than God,
would give them anything they want, would
even kill for them. Our cars keep running
after war, splash through puddles of blood,
bone fragments spiking their tires.
In 2008, WordTech Press will publish a new book of Kenneth Pobo’s poems called Glass Garden. His work appears in, or will appear in, these online journals: Glass, Clapboard House, Forpoetry.com, Three Candles, 2River View, and elsewhere.