[1] Apologists for wars stand At pulpits piously providing Theology for death. I am still On my knees, walking away From their dirty stink, in the name Of Jesus, their Lord and Savior.

How can anyone save man - This hard bitter ground where No seed ever takes root? Other masters were perhaps More right; men need to keep Fighting because it tempers Character and strengthens virtue.

[2] Through the walls of this room, Radio of a construction crew Brings in cadences of a preacher. How easily he pulls verses out, A regular magician for these times!

God! I am sick and tired of his Prattle about glorifying God. What I shall praise this morning Will be quite simple: innocence Of children before their skulls Are blasted open, innocence of Nature before desolation falls.

[3] Meanwhile as before we invite strangers To our tables. Meanwhile we fashion our

Deadly payloads, singing Psalms joyfully. Meanwhile governments keep polishing

Jackboots, bayonets, barbed wire at borders. Meanwhile flags keep fluttering in rockets’

Red glare. Meanwhile we shall continue To pray for peace to spurt out of gun barrels

Like red poppies, and for those men Who hold them up to them up, fingers tense On the trigger. Meanwhile this is the distant

Pain of others, I let myself feel only When I listen to Handel’s Messiah.