my dreams exploded

now they'll never come true.

Will you?

Bombs dropping continually

exploding myths of eternal life

Where the bombs don't land snipers caress

the Spring air

There will be no new blossoming here

In the shelters children plan the rest

of their lives.

"Two-minutes from now I'll eat

Four-minutes from now I will kiss my mother's tears good bye

Six-minutes from now I'll open my arms

to the mortar fire in front of my mother"

When I was a child I planned my life too:

Basketball champion. Baseball hero, Air-Force fighter pilot

President of the United States

(bombing villages and saving large breasted

youthful capitalistic girls)

But this was never part of the plan.

As I sit in my chair watching the 6 o'clock news.

I am a victim too.

Here in Sarajevo. Here in Rwanda. In Belfast.

The Townships. Loos Angles. Victor Harbor.

The bombs burst through the television set

I'm hit.

Memories of childhood pour out of my wounds.

Pain takes over my consciousness.

Somehow I manage to crawl over where the TV

is plugged in.

Once the plug is pulled

my wounds heal.

My world is safe.

War! Revolution! Terrorists! Accidents!

They no longer exist.

i am safe i am safe

in my dead mother's womb.