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Visit to the American cemetery in Hamm (Luxembourg)


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So many dead boys and heartbroken families. Will the world ever learn? Every time I see one of those pictures of endless rows of graves it reminds me of why I painted and wrote this.

2074517439_TheMeatplowbyVincentMonaco.jpg.18157b2eb21b512c561efb874dc3bcdf.jpg

The Meatplow

Oil painting and poem by Vincent Monaco

Into the meatplow,
Our sons always go.
They go to be cut to pieces,
Rather than to live, and to grow.

The meatplow turns,
Yielding it's gnashing teeth.
Devouring all,
All the kids that it meets.

It butchers our boys,
Leaving only horror and sadness in its wake,
But we keep turning it back on,
Sometimes it seems we just can't wait.

The meatplow is so horrible,
It spins its razored head,
Sending them back to us dead.
Why? Why haven't we learned the lesson yet?

How can we rationalize,
The harvest this evil beast reaps?
Constantly feeding it our sons,
Continually for its meat.

 

Edited by Vinnart
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