I wrote this back in the summer... seems to have even more meaning upon our further 'commitment' to Afpak...
Forsooth forgot
That time begot
A feral clawed unease
At images
And terrycloth,
Absorbing blood for free.
'Each drop should have a price', they say,
Sipping evening tea.
Machetes spill, the peasant drops,
A weekend on the sea.
Forsooth forgot
That time begot
A bloody reverie
Where terrycloth
and images
are used to set us free.