a poem from the first Persian Gulf War

[marky]

Many years ago, a good friend of mine gave me a poem about the Gulf War he said he found in a residence he lived in once. He didn't know who wrote it. I kept the long piece of computer paper. It was done on what looks like a late 80's word processor. When it's folded, it has written on it in red ink "Gulf War/J.Luchte" and I'd like to share it here, exactly, word for word as it appears on the paper:
_______________________
the shadow of lady macbeth stands sleep walking over across within through this realm of our lives
sitting staring flowing clouds through dirt stained window streams white brushed against blue inexorably remixing torrent movement
attention drawn away by sickening manipulative voice voice vomiting out lines hate voice eventually ceases quickly replaced by sober calculating cold
phone call interrupts speaks of war inevitability of ruthless bloody ground war the television speaks
he has war
tested troops has seen many war time situations
could he be coaxing us in

e n d l e s s
monotonous sinister baseless speculation idle lying sickening horrible b-movie foul stench people paid to be absurd speculators experts
token minority gray haired glasses wearing african american male speaking of the likelihood of casualties three fourths of frontline ground troops african american
pre-calculated damage control public relations laying the ground for the ground war
complex of domination sings disempowering lullabye [sic] descending upon us a form of sleep immersed within dream experience disconnected forgetful images bits distractions
propoganda continually maintained reaffirmation after reaffirmation after reaffirmation just like goebbels [sic] and his big lie
lie of our lives tentacles control police the herd within disciplinary corral necessary component within systems psychology of war
people need release one to be incorporated dissent rationalized moment within reproduction of terrestrial configuration matrix territorially articulated complex networks systems production facilities
force fed examples emulate driving us away nausea sickening festering quality herd lies to itself reassures itself strangles
herd dark amorpous dangerous realm pity rules molding brains sheep confused twisted chaotic hunks of rotting stinking flesh.
of reprisal exclusion isolation hiding within the belonging another herd many herds recognizable herds complete with cowboys cowgirls attack herd dogs
concrete situation lives presence converted prison engulfing frustration powerlessness
only by indentification with dominant faction of herd only with this mediated experience of power an image and illusion of power can life attain meaning actualization purpose
only through slavery does one become free [note 1984 similarity here]
late evening dark outside gaze out window seeing lighted windows across courtyard reflection television shines in window my reflection
sit there looking into the eyes examinating face texture coloration hair long front messy dark hair dark shirt encasing hunched over thin male
can no longer hear the voices shutting them off disconnecting from system consent manipulation escape situation
herd war it remains all remains ever voracious amount of dissent it can incorporate as raw material within its own systematic articulation
music chaotically dances within this discipline of this score words no longer matter being swept into this movement of sound
streams blurs of images emotive terrorism weakens those attempting to break out
from all points become entrapped within the shock troops of narrow obedience submission another retired general how novel
become confused must listen must participate some way guilt tempts me people are dying
private interests western rich orgy rape simulateneous another way to kill two birds with one stone
begin to question this watch participating bystander consuming spectacle rape murder genocide
roll cigarette laughing hysterically
demonically set cigarette at edge of table grab two toothpicks
will place them between eyelids keeping forcing eyelids open
constantly will not miss any of the coverage
this will be my participation my praxis posture the body masochistically towards television inviting the manipulative disinformation venomous mindless terroristic advertising
this is mine i [sic] have meaning here as a consumer and a herd animal i am needed i am given a purpose a reason for living jacking off to the technical discourse of genocide
grow demented naming the toothpicks one leon on the right, sandy on the left begin to rub sandy until she pokes out my left eye scream in ecstasy as the storm in the gulf surges through my being
in my own mind i become the war in the gulf expresses as the physical war against myself chop off each of the fingers on my right hand mix bleach with ammonia sending out clouds of noxious chemical vapors shove the bloody stump of the hand into the mixture breathe in vapors choking crying spitting blood set fire to chemical burning off the face the skin bubbling resin searing the flesh smell the body burning
see the antiseptic face of the newscaster wishing the head a good day

[h.]

Here's another. That war started when I was just a wee thing. Right on my birthday...

Here I go
kissing ten boys
and counting them.
I haven't lived ten days in relation
to twenty years
Or forty, depending on how you look
at it,
Where a war I was alive for took place.

I'm warring for my peace,
needing it
I can't feel right unless I've lived.
shall I become the whore for war?
living each day like it's my last?


Yeah, I know it sucks, but I was 16. What can you expect? I still feel the same in some ways so I guess it wasn't all in vain.