Justin Butcher and The Slaughterhouse Boys
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8/26/2006 10:21:30 AM
FINDING THE WMD
Finding the WMD
We unearthed the WMD in the end,
Cunningly hidden in front of our noses,
Where none knew at first what it might portend,
This culture of cells whose spores, like roses,
Smelled sweetly at first but, once inhaled,
Dispersed their pathogen to begin its
Infection of the body assailed,
Subduing it within forty-five minutes.
It was not, to be sure, what Alastair Campbell’s
Wish-list dossier strove to name
(Collateral for Blair’s great gamble
In his T.E. Lawrence game),
Nor what Co-lin had in mind
When he warned the UN of “Saddam’s tricks”.
No - this WMD, much easier to find,
Eluded Butler and Ritter and Blix.
Respecting neither creed nor race,
Ubiquitous, it does its work
Concealed behind its Janus-face
In Saddam-scowl or Dubya-smirk.
In truth its acronym should be
Not WMD, but MRV –
The germ that incubates in silence
Known as the Myth of Redemptive Violence.
07/02/06
Justin Butcher
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