If poetry is a war
Then I want my words
At the top of the highest hill
Where the chances of winning are the best
Where my words can ride down into waiting heads
And pick off thoughts before they take root


If poetry is a war
Then words poorly placed in the trenches
Will rarely see the light
Going over the top is the only way out
Casualties have to be high
And victory is a distant dream


If poetry is a war
Then the battlefield is not flat
Not all words are created the same
And not all armies are equally equipted
But you cannot win a war
That you refuse to fight