Literature
The Man Who Says He Hates War
The Man Who Says He Hates War
by p.b. wells
there is a man
who says he hates war.
he says it slow,
like he is reading off the label
of a bottle he cannot afford,
trying to sound dignified
while his tie cuts off the blood
to his already empty head.
he says he hates war
then starts licking his lips
every time a map comes out.
he hates war
but he wants Greenland,
talks about taking it
by force, if necessary,
like a drunk uncle
eyeing the neighbor’s truck.
he hates war
but he wants to annex Canada,
the quiet kid at the back of the class
who never bothered anybody,
and now this clown wants to
slap a collar on him
and drag him across the border
for the hell of it.
he hates war
but he talks about invading Mexico
like he is ordering extra guac,
easy, casual,
as if cities do not burn
the same way his toast does.
he hates war
but Venezuela is on the menu too,
another place he cannot spell,
a country he thinks is only
gasoline and brown faces
that owe
