Emergency Surgery in Syria or Any Other Place of No Hope

All day, she hands him scalpel, drill bits,
Clamps, retractors, lancets.
He reaches, cuts, dissects and staples,
Expecting, accepting losses

Mothers in plastic sacks, forever deafened
Are stacked in corners.
Lost screams ride up high,
Scaring away hungry dogs

All day, she hands him scalpel, drill bits,
Clamps, retractors, lancets.
He reaches, cuts, dissects and staples,
His shoes are soaked in blood.

At dawn, both cover remaining bodies,
Clean scalpel, drill bits, clamps, retractors, lancets
And try to ignore the orphans
Drowning in darkness.

Today's News in Paraprosdokian Terms

      "Malaysian jet MH17 crashed, 238 dead."

Once again, I understand I am never too old
to learn something tragically stupid,
Ukrainian separatists, claiming to save identities,
efficiently took them.

After reading tomorrows news correctly, I'll be more surprised,
'cause you can always count on Putin to do an unexpected move—
after everything else failed.

I say, politicians' clear conscience signals a fuzzy memory
'cause when your are told all is in order,
you learn nothing is

and 'cause light travels faster than sound,
Obama appeared bright until he spoke
and Merkel indecisive. Tomorrow, she'll be sure again

and Poroschenko emerged an earnest man
who has much to be earnest about,
'cause in the end no war determines who is right,
only who is left.