A number of years ago I bought a CD, Poetry in Performance (Vol 2, 57 Productions, www.poetryjukebox.com) and I was immediately caught by the arresting 'the poem that was really a list' by Francesca Beard.
More recently, her haunting diction and striking rhythms have come back to me. I cannot claim this voice totally for myself, though the ideas are mine, and it keeps breaking out:
The caretaker who is really a poet.
The criminal who is really a protester.
The civilian who may be a rebel.
The child who is collateral damage.
The terrorist who might have been a goat herder.
The wrestle which was really an embrace.
The philosopher who was really stone.
The scaffold which was once a tree.
The meditation that was really sleep.
The words which became a knife.
Try it for yourself, especially while you are watching the news.