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Killers on the Beach • O. • The glory of Rome • What’s the Goal?

Paul Lojeski: The good man’s smile lit up the ballroom like a full moon over a Caribbean Sea.
Killers on the Beach

Killers on the Beach

at the beach cloud
covered sunset
summer families
arranged about in
chairs, chatting,
laughing like
the guiltless
good guys they
fancy themselves
to be, Frisbees afloat,
dogs on the run,
all the accoutrements
of the pleasantly Billy
Joel loving well off,
but well disguised
monsters in truth
draped in human
skin to deceive
the many mirrors
and hide the horrors
of dark armies on the
slaughter and cold
dead thoughts
brutally bleeding
the essence out
of faraway places,
so they don’t see the
torn and suffer the death
cries that support
their easy gait and
twinkling eyes,
privilege of birth
and blade.


The good man’s smile
lit up the ballroom
like a full moon over
a Caribbean Sea.
He was a most convivial
expert at hiding his sins:
that flesh hissing in the night
at his feathered command,
missiles streaking from
blood-red sunsets, setting
desert air aflame. Yes,
the good man chuckled
at his cleverness, then,
as the applause rose
and thundered on
in a storm of roaring
self-deceit, and with those
agonies muffled beyond
the white mountains,
he knew he’d be honored
and cherished for ages,
so he smiled and waved
again, basking in the vile
glow of his followers’
slithering cowardice.

The glory of Rome

bombs blasting hospitals
shredding babies and doctors

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the big dog gargoyle creeping
to Helicopter One, waving
at the cameras, smiling that
bloody grin of menace
and murder

last cries of a dying child
in fierce hot winds
of burning flesh

democracy marching on…

What’s the Goal?

Slaughter until the last
Human kneels on a burning
Hill, bleeding to death?

Paul Lojeski