Media Warfare: the Late Late Show
by Michael Brett
Hi! Our special guest tonight is War.|
We've all enjoyed his films and books.
(The camera tracks War as he slouches
Down our staircase, past the studio orchestra.
He is wearing green battle fatigues.
He has a cigarette in his mouth
And is draped in machine gun belts.
Wearily, he smiles and waves.)
Well, here he is.
Do bombs speak English? Does he speak English?
(Host smiles at the camera.) Looking good as always.
His tank's in the car park.
His armoured horse's in the stable.
Well, I'll tell you-speaking as a veteran myself-
(Host raises his voice over the sound of helicopter motors.)
You all know how he looks.
But nothing, nothing
Prepares you for the noise and the smell.
Nothing prepares you for the sense of amazement
When someone shoots at you. You think, why me?
I don't know these people.
(Outside the camera tracks among blackened buildings
In medium shot. Piles of partially-burned rubbish
Lie between wrecked cars.
Someone with a strange sense of humour
Has put a human skull inside a broken television,
The Late Late Show.
Copyright © 2009 - Michael Brett
Published: 11/12/09 · Author's Page · Next Poem