Sniper View
Sniper view doesn’t suffice—
rendering happens viscerally
in the blood, guts, and fluids
to capture the disorder
of the war between us.
If they want to hug misery
let them. Sons of camels
humped by fear, lives mastered
by immobility, falling behind
shouldering the weight of oiled Berettas,
extra clips, and semi-auto reactions.
Cerebus chews over our potential
futures for the tasty bits—
well-seasoned with the juices
of paranoia, meat marbled
with the fat of opinion,
both sides seared
to perfection.
