Play Suspended
¶ 1
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In those icy waters, with winter coming on,
a computer guides the conqueror worm to its target.
At Goose Green, a playing pitch has been cratered
with bombs. The shrapnel in a soldier’s chest
outweighs the thud of the soccer ball:
the patriotic lust to win on the football field,
England versus Argentina,
never saw the blood shed in this scrap
over sheep-grazing land.
Before, winning was the game.
When we lost, we never lost like this.
¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Christopher T. George
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