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About Street roots. (Portland, OR) 1998-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 7, 2014)
14 Yes we did know what we didn’t know Recognize by Steven R. Miller By Julie McCurdy Unknown Unknown by Steven R. Miller ’ powderbums and flashbacks that never go away in an endless display official ticks I don’t know everything my actions will create. Laundry cost increases,, only a few cents buta cost'and effect nonetheless. I justify... it was the first cup... sleep was off... it’s the cat’s, fault... ought I be blamed? What the heck, it’s not like war. but you can expect a similar cause and effect unknown unknowns...what the hell is that? You start a war, justified or bored...how many unknowns are in store Loss of life, your own or theirs, Destruction, reconstruction, famine, rape, plunder. I wonder how Now you’re surprised, • and we let him decay in front of us without notice you may protest the reasons, even blame the politicians... though we should aiways...always praise the soldier who gave all... and then some we sent him to a nether world where wrong turned into jight and right to wrong where nothing but the next minute mattered ' ' where the scent of survival and deaths danced in decadent display then expected him to just be OK we expected him to stand past his lack of welcome home and to not choke past choruses of promises If 10,000 die and you do not see, what does that mean to you and me? Because we didn’t know them or know how they died, are they unknown unknowns or spoon fed lies? Battle Lines By Ron Sanford Is world peace too much to ask for Hidden within a limitless sea? Six billion and growing, time marches on Faster as competition breeds discontent Some nations need so much help, Not military intervention that existed only in conversation Pulling a trigger on a gun J or thought, brought actions, reactions and subtraction. the war to end all wars wasn’t enough...so we had dozens more. along with anniversaries of wars to salute heroic deeds done beneath the gaze Of patriotic flames. ' he left himself back in Saigon If I spill coffee as a gestate, a mass of what I create... Someone has to clean, J’m not being mean, it ain’t gonna be me... in a field of red, pretty flowers to recognize the sacrifice of thé dead I could see shotgun silence in his stare '• And yes we did know what we didn’t know which is why we shiver as we pass the stain his soul left on the concrete In the shuffle they are last And left to their own devices Too bad, the battle lines have been drawn! When our free will has been challenged The herded masses must choose sides As to redefine our manifest destiny Our soul is the battleground, not the earth The unaccounted weight of our bodies The dark matter, which can be felt but not seen The spark of life, which has been given to us FRA NK HUR LEY/G ETTY IM A G E S
