All posts tagged war


Published February 18, 2016 by April Fox

We are all God’s children, black
white, brown
No, not black, not white
certainly not brown; those are the ones with the bombs
even though they are the ones
who most closely resemble
on a cross; we are all
God’s children
wrapped in His loving arms
unless your loving arms are a woman’s arms, wrapped around
another, palm cupped against her
for comfort while you sleep
We are all God’s children
sending you fags
to hell
We are all God’s children; suffer the little ones
unto Him
except the tired ones, the hungry ones, the ones
with holes in their socks and underwear worn thin as tissue, handed down
from older siblings
gunned down in the street
Those are nobody’s children, and they should have
their heads impaled
on the steps of the social service building
as reminders to their parents
who forgot to pursue the
We are all God’s children, created in
His image,
plastic breasts and silicone lips and limbs torn from bodies
in the desert
dying for
[the sins of man for power for the almighty]
your country, protecting
your freedom
Blessed are the meek
for they shall inherit
the fear.


Published December 9, 2015 by April Fox

We are Pavlov’s dogs

gas on

gas off

red light

green light





new shoes


captive audience




brown is the new black,

haven’t you heard?

your God is ugly and your mama

dresses you funny

go back where you belong

if you can find it

crash-test dummies, toys

dolls for the fat and wealthy children

to destroy

coddled by the idiots

that follow them

like roaches

in a line 

a chess game, red and blue

the pawns are blown away

and left for dead

I typed this on my iPhone

from the safety of my

German automobile. 


Published March 14, 2015 by April Fox

There is a house full of snakes

waiting to devour us

fangs slick with the ejaculate of

televangelists and

politicians, bellies fat with

power and the scrawny limbs

of dying children, sacrificed for the greater

good, gently laid to rest

before an altar draped in patriotic

cloth and the stench of soggy dollar bills wet with sweat and creased

from Uncle Sam’s fat fingers, and the whores

pick up their guns and strip down to their fatigues and turn the charm on

like it’s the final fuck

before the fix. 

And from his cloud perch, god sits watching, caged and laughing 

at the folly of us all. 

“Who Pays for the War?” Posed by my fifth-grade daughter.

Published September 5, 2012 by April Fox

I had the following conversation the other day, when baby girl was telling me about an upcoming fundraiser at the new school she recently started attending. It reads like one of those internet memes, but this wasn’t made up; it was an actual conversation between me and my 5th-grader, and I’m sharing simply to illustrate the point that children know what’s going on. Hopefully, she and her peers will be the ones who are able to make the necessary changes to their world.

Baby girl: Do you know why we have to do a fundraiser? My school doesn’t have any money. I mean really, it has no money. That’s why we had to bring in tissues and paper and stuff, too.
Me: That’s really sad.
Baby girl: Aren’t public schools supposed to get money from the government?
Me: Yep.
[A pause, while she ponders the situation] Baby girl: Are we still in a war?
Me: Yeah, we are.
Baby girl: Who pays for the war?

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