Seattle 67, or Poem Draft III

Union Daughter Peace Song

The day war goes on strike,
fighter jets will re-program themselves,
hijack their pilots and force them to skywrite words like
“yuckaputz” and “noodie kazoodie."

The day war goes on strike,
advancing enemies will only be allowed to bunny hop
or play mother may i. in unison.
Spoken commands will end with some term of endearment
so that every war cry matches the march:

mother may i please take two steps forward
(my darling cabbage patch of tenderness?)
no, but you may put your hand grenades down
and leave the pins where they are,
(my little field of cinnamon buns.)

The day war goes on strike
bombs will turn to pop rocks;
instead of dismemberment, the children will suffer
bad dental hygiene and a good sugar rush.

I will bicycle down California
flinging soft chocolate kisses
from a kindergarten backpack
and finally call you –

because war will be on strike,
and I’ve never crossed a picket line.