​the foul odour of scarred flesh.


the reeking decomposition.


bodies once animated, once so alive, now strewn across the moist ground.



the surgical strike.


pin-point accuracy.



the smartest weapons, deployed, to decimate the bad guys.



black and brown people, more often than not, pummeled to a pulp, black and blue.



while LCD screens miles away, surveill, scanning for potential targets, the unknown other.



the evil doers,



as mothers and daughters, pick out apples and spinach


in a market-place in the cross-hairs

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