S M

I tell you, Chickadee

I am afraid of people

who cannot cry

Tears left unshed

turn to poison

in the ducts

Ask the next soldier you see

enjoying a massacre

if this is not so.

People who do not cry

are victims

of soul mutilation

paid for in Marlboros

and trucks.

Resist.

Violence does not work

except for the man

who pays your salary

Who knows

if you could still weep

you would not take the job.