|
Who is he? |
Someone is riding With me Staring at me From rear-view mirror Jabbers into my intercom I can't make out His strange words Who is he? Why he sticks to me? Over waves of sand Under a blind moon A ghoul Swept over by the Shimal Into my senses Lo! He is there! Again In the infra-red view finder A white skeleton Bathed in hellish red Who is he? A spirit strayed From jungles of Vietnam He is gone... Nay a grim figure An Assyrian warrior Drenched in steel Risen from ashes Of ancient Babylon To join his sons... LO! He is in my uniform If he is an American Am I an Iraqi? I am so confused I am not afraid I don't know Who am I? Why am I here? A poor American Why the poor die In Bush-fires of the rich? Why am I here? To fight the people I don't know And who did me no harm. |
|
|