Who Let the Dogs Out by John Mackie

I am not a silent poet

who let the dogs out
with a self satisfied smirk
and a thirty two foot
poster of people fleeing
from smart bombs, bullets, gas
the insistent red dots
of sniper fire?

these are the enemy now it seems;
people just like us
walking away from
violent death , rape
the stink of our burning faces
the final rattle of our children’s breaths

who let the dogs out
baying for blood for a chance
to swing back to supremacy
to a time when their heroes’
bite was lethal, baleful oh yes
far worse than their bark ?

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