By Wil C. Fry, March 19, 2003, 21:00 (Wednesday)

Copyright © 2003 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.

How many other poets will write tonight?
As the sky cracks apart
The beating thatís speeding in my heart
How many will compare this
To Armageddon?
To the End of Days?
I for one wish to sit and watch
And keep a gun close by
A hundred million Americans
Sit by their TVs
While twenty million Arabs
Dive for bunkers
And the live color broadcasts
Will deluge us with horror
Yet, somehow, Iím excited
Pumping, thumping, bumping is my heart
Check the window once or twice
Sniff the air, check the batteries
And watch your back
Thereís the attack — See the lights!
On marches the night
Who is wrong? Who is right?
And donít give me your plagiarized speeches
Your long-prepared opinions based only on your opinions
Have you ever heard of an open mind?
Keep your politicking to yourself
And I donít care which side youíre on
Look out into the world
And open your eyes
History has come out of hiding
As bombs provide the lighting
Full moon excursions
Annihilate the Persians
While we watch and wait
Some say itís too late
While others say itís sin
I say, ďHang on, Iíll grab a pen.Ē
Did the ground tremor just then?
Or was that just the Midwest wind?
The Texanís speech came on just now
Explaining what, when and why, but not how
When it begins to end, to wind down
Maybe weíll have a night on the town
Or maybe weíll sit and cry
As flag-draped coffins go by
But... nonetheless...
Here it is...

Written within minutes of the beginning of the U.S.A.’s War Against Iraq, some of which was broadcast on live television.

comments powered by Disqus