It seems our terror’s fallen into error
or, at the least, strategic ill-repute.
In any case, I hate to be the bearer
of paradox. Just tell me where to shoot.
The Base Heather Stroud
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The Political Economy of Dissent Peter Blunt
What I Saw in Ukraine: 2015-2022: Diary of an International Observer Benoit Paré
At the Lost and Found: Personal & Political Dispatches of Resistance and Hope Edward Curtin
Class War, Then and Now: Essays toward a New Left Chris Wright
America's Hijacked Peace Dividend: Long Overdue and Immediately Payable John Rachel
Mind Abuse: Media Violence and Its Threat to Democracy Rose Dyson
Anthropause: The Beauty of Degrowth Stan Cox
Broken Stars: Gaza Poems Buff Whitman-Bradley
by Norman Ball / November 1st, 2015
It seems our terror’s fallen into error
or, at the least, strategic ill-repute.
In any case, I hate to be the bearer
of paradox. Just tell me where to shoot.
This article was posted on Sunday, November 1st, 2015 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.
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