Ambience, circa 1995

November 25, 2009

There is a spot in my heart called Bosnia
That has been emptied since the Serbs came
Ethnicity and religion allied to deceive me
I tried to ignore them with a blind eye
But they romp through my soul each day
Though it is thousands of miles away.
“Furget them Muslims.”
“That ain’t Amurika, half way ‘round the world.”
“Them kids dying crossing the street, hell boyz, that ain’t wurth the blud of one Amurkian.”

Maybe Adolph was right and
Appeasers in the west are mere sissies
Who only stir when you mess their wallets.

I’m so tired of hearing about Bosnia
Her children huddled in dank basements
Sarajevo’s trees burned (two winters ago.)


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