This is another poem that's fiction, inspired by a bunch of words someone threw out into cyberspace together. I don't know whether any of the talking heads at the various world peace conferences in different European cities used a binder in a color called "New Start yellow."
Anyway, the general idea is based in facts.
The
ancient world knew the illusion
that
life was peaceful. Water plied
prettily
through clepsydra, inspiring
a
melody of peace. Intrusion
of
enemy troops--slash! smash! now firing
the
walls round courtyards!--proved it lie.
Today
the group confers a medal
for
thought-work toward world peace. The speaker,
though
Europe's bleak and Palestine bleaker
in
prospect, stands and talks. And talks.
His
paper proves him faithful fellow.
Even
his binder's "New Start yellow."
A
clerk records with mindful pedal:
politically
correct, yet false.
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