Bewildering Stories

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Lies, Damned Eyes, and Statistics

by Michael Murry

I cannot speak your name for I despise
Those noises that a caring mind decries

You’ve told as many contradicted lies
As any tiny man of greater size

To nurse your pride the Pentagon supplies
Another squad of young and brave GI’s

So once again today a soldier dies
The blood that soaks his clothes congeals and dries

Above his fallen form his spirit flies
At home his mother sits alone and cries

Amid the rubble piles of bodies rise
Yet still your moving mouth the truth denies

So this I say to you, sir: Damn Your Eyes!

Copyright © 2004 by Michael Murry

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