Peace Now! Or Anytime in This Lifetime
Peace is always somewhere else—
in Utopia, Shangri-La, the New Jerusalem.
Peace is the walled garden we never
saw where erosion has made a desert.
�
Peace is always sometime else—
� the golden age where our distant
� ancestors squatted eating dates
� and roots together in primal bliss;
�
or the future ever more distant
� when robots do all the work
� and we zip about in clean air
� over clean cities eating manna.
�
Peace is up above the clouds
� among plump cherubs and skinny
� angels. Peace is within: Om.
� Peace is what politicians sell.
�
I have never lived when there
� was not a war. So long as profits
� swell with heaps of bodies,
� so long as rulers conflate penises
�
with power, so long as war
� is confused with a hockey game,
� peace will lie in pieces, small
� moments, an occasional blue day.
�
�
