Another Nuon Chea

Another Nuon Chea/ another landmine dug out of the the ground/ another dried bone pile to be found/ sadness stays/ sprinkle dust along the spring/ pure, sweet water that feeds us/ freedom is banging around in the bottom of a oil drum/ being fed down our throat tubes til our insides our numb/ I’ve heard retirement will be beautiful, I’ll just take over the books and find another way to fund our war/ of manufactured goods/ till its all peace and good looks/ and we hardly remember the shivers in which we shook/ and the lies and lives and lines that we took

Another Nuon Chea/ another way to kill the chaos/ another worker being flung to the field to dig, dig, dig/ we live in the grit of our torn fingernails- and the most boorish portions of the pig/ we agree, we nod with the propaganda/ yes sir, caught in the midst of a common answer/ I’m more guilty than the knife that slit the jugular itself/ the tortures of a guilty loudmouth conscience and hell/ felt/ the blame game is an old man’s lack of confession in the stare of fading health/ talking lies in the mirror as he grooms himself

Another Nuon Chea/ another dam in the flow/ another mistake that I couldn’t take back once my machete was drawn from my knapsack/ another close call, another body drawn into the Rorschach/ gimme your surgeons mask/ let me hide the die to death/ in the amputee and quiver with whats left of our lips cleft/ and our hearts leapt out of our chests/ another lemonade stand on the side of the road where we wash down our regrets/ another soldiers march to the valley of yes/ to the promenade of kill/ to the point of our compass the read handgun on the windowsill/ angered voices from the back rooms of schools/ and children being punished for not knowing and failing to realize/ fed the serum of death from the pith of the vipers/ the nest of the suicide squadron til we are tired/ until we sleep in the bottom of a river/ our teeth are removed with the thickest pliers/ liars/ liars

Another Nuon Chea/ another name-drop for the honor guard/ another notch in our belts, another stamp on our cards/ another chance to win a all-expenses paid round-trip to the dark side/ martyrdom inherent with the soulscreams that we’ve sky-ed/ I don’t wanna hear the pleas and screams before your frame is melted into ice cream/ I never believed the demons that squawked praises of your first-born/ a dirtroad past masked by the must of the war torn/ I hope they leave the monks behind so they can pray for em/

Another Nuon Chea/ another day in the dense jungle/ another scream that was muffled/ another picture hung in a former torture prison as a rebuttal/ another knife slice to cut you/ a million more ways to say I love you

Another Nuon Chea/ old man in the shadow of a jungle, hidden in the northwest safe zone, given as a concession of a very very fragile piece, who lives humbly, who has killed so many and been given the peace of mind, in the form of ignorance, genuinely believing that he has done nothing wrong in his life/ known as brother number 2, as if to place some sort of trust in this man, as to imply that the deaths of these people were deserved, legitimated, and for the good of all

Another Nuon Chea