Kisses and Uppercuts [Ground Zero]

At half-mast this half-assed resolution flails in the wind.

Tell me, where do you
evacuate the fleet when you’re the
sinking flagship?

Where do we send
this ragtag group
of rebels,
hungry,
disheveled,
sleepless and
seeing lovely maidens where there
are none to
be seen?

When they climb up the
sunset’s shores and the whole
world asks them
where they’ve been,
can you imagine
the
questions?

What of the admirals
and courageous
soldiers
guarding
them?

How many of us were
collateral in a senseless
war we cannot
possibly hope
to win?

Will they send
back kisses or
uppercuts,
negotiate how push came
to shove,
launch full-scale
ground assaults
or give up before the real
war’s begun?

Battle for
our freedom, our
way of life, all the
little things we
believe in.

They can’t anticipate the
endgame but sure they can
find one
reason to fight
on our behalf.

Because we’re worth more than the
wreckage
they were willing to
leave our
carcasses in.

Surely someone is
coming back.

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