Under the Sun and Brother Mars

Still at it, those tired old hacks.
Groping words of warning to shape
the world; gloom prophets. And Mars
down from his bloody planet laughs
       striding killer boots over the
shrinking Earth. Lame-minded prophets,

like hobblefoot Hephaestus, pleading
peace. Tired platitudes. What
     mindless destruction?   Civilization
has reached its zenith.   In scientific
technology   in detachedness.

Innocuous, that word, neutron.  From
neutral?  Undecided?
        at taking sides. Impartial
Switzerland was once a nation of
mercenaries.    Hephaestus, remember, was
a blacksmith, himself clanged weapons

of war.    Too lame to fight but provided
the means.     It all seems so damn
      familiar.   We are grateful for mass
anonymity and sanity prevails.    We've
leaped forward to a time of great

understanding.    Understanding as we 
do that the dead are only television
                                          images.