Anywhere you go,
there’s a war.
Military presence
or no,
a war;
craters and
pus and rot or
sweet green fields,
a war;
occupation or
liberation, ideology
or theology,
a war.
All you need
for a war to exist
is someone
accepting the existence
of collateral damage —
and
dulling eyes
that no longer wonder
what to call
what just happened.

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