Theocracy Off Track
A Lament Against Bin Laden and his Religious Imperialists
Grief still befits those stricken sons
Whose kin were beaten or blown apart.
Let them not forget the wrath of Cain
Robed in the steel of Bin Laden's heart.
Let them not forget the toxic gas,
The moon-washed vapor no one dared to stop;
Nor the vacant fields that Saddam filled
Shattered into smoke and rock.
The features are the same of death:
Ancient pain minced into fodder,
Suicide bombings and mass murders —
The deeds the heart owns in killers.
So ring your threats no more, you thugs!
You're off the track with burnt-out tales.
Your wheels got separated from their rails.
Go crack your knuckles in some jail!
We hold the cool of dawn and mornings free,
Drinking in a deeper victory,
A triumph for peace, a broader flag
Gripped in Liberty.
With half-strength, Bin Laden, you'll have your day,
With dust-covered boots and gun-shell,
Seeking your cowards' light, from their graves,
Curtained in the shadows of hell.
by James Wm. Chichetto
... who is a freelance poet, with eight books of verse to his
credit, and works appearing in The Native American Poetry
Anthology, The First Abbey Wood Anthology, The
Boston Globe, The Boston Phoenix,
The Colorado Review, Gargoyle,
The Manhattan Review, Poem,
The Paterson Review, as well as previously in
this literary magazine. He is related to combat veterans of the
Korean War and World War Two; and teaches writing and literature
at Stonehill College.
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