Bombs Dropping

On homes and children

And veiled wives

Lives shattered

And animals running

Scared

And I sit here in

Flannel pajamas

And contemplate turning

On the sad news

Or not

Feeling like I can do

Nothing

But pray

That the men in power

Who think they have

My approval will wake up

In some moment

In the middle of

Biting into their

Morning toast

And realize that bombs

Dropping cannot be

The answer to violence

When violent thoughts

And actions

Often have

A cause

In hurt and misunderstanding

By people

Like you and I

Who go about their lives

Working and wanting

And trying to have

A good life

Doing it of course

According

To their own damn rules

And not yours or mine.

Bombs dropping

Like tears from

The sky

Shattering the peaceful

Existence of

Farmers and goats

And sheep

And little children

Who won’t understand

What it means to be

Labeled

Criminal

By thoughts

Cultivated in fear

And ignorance

To be thought of

As a weed that

Must be killed

Or rained upon

By a shower of lethal

Bombs

Dropping

From an angry sky

By arrogant fools

Who think THIS

Will preserve our

Sense of patriotism

And courage

And THIS

Will bring back

The gluttonous

Times of eating

That good ‘ol

American pie.

Oak Park, IL 2001