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
