Crippled Eagles

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The Violent Years

The Violent Years is a 1956 American exploitation film directed by William Morgan and starring Jean Moorhead as Paula Parkins, the leader of a gang of juvenile delinquent high school girls. The film is notable for having an uncredited Ed Wood as the author of its screenplay. It was released in 1956 on a double bill with the German import Conchita and the Engineer (aka Macumba). more »

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Private second class narc
shot where the Valium mattered
Simulacra of comfort
simulation of home
Business class sleeper drooling
A dream the color of paper
Staring snow-blind and hungry
On something absent at home
His head the water feature
Gracing identical suburban homes
Joined to keep the aqueduct supplying our Rome
But got a little too close

Folie a deux, C.O. and middle manager
Ordered compliance is their contribution
The magic eye of hearts and minds
The Shi'ites share our all-volunteer approach
Our image is the highest honor we can bestow
Do what you will when we say go
The green zone, the dream
We take when we leave
...chocks... (unintelligible) plane

Empty promises recruiters never claim
Holes in families, holes in countries
U.X.O. we drown in drink
God bless Al-A'amiriya
And every crater we can't name
Every uniform's a pallbearer
Dragging our whole world into the back of the plane

Zenless archers, not aiming
Found their center, their calling
A meal ticket providing
There's nothing waiting at home
Individual dreamers
In interchangeable countries
While far Annapolis greases
The human capital rolls
Standing water army growing
Sea bloom, clouding how deep it goes
Commercials show the paratroopers
Never the guards, or the drones

And the first strike falls
And the ants below start moving away
Mute hidden, raw-boned technician killers drive home
Crippled Eagles flying away
The world that we've been hiding from ourselves
Still bears our face
The turret gunner gets the hose
For trying to catch a raise in pay
The poor die while the rich
Forgive each other's proud mistakes
Twenty years and our Omerta holds
Even as our holdings wane
You lied to my brother
And your words won't cover his grave
Hide what's left of him beneath your carrion flag
Do you have no shame

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