Yeah I’m there, man,
like a peach or a flower,
or a rock in the street,
picked up in the street
by a child and hurled at a tank,
while we visit the Hitler channel and
brag about our cluster bombs
and speak of freedom.
Whose flag?
Whose flag
shall we drape over the child?
Yours?
Mine?
And so this rock in the street, this
peach or a flower
bounces off the tank, and
falls again helplessly in the street
as helpless as this poem
as helpless as the peach or the flower or
the child
We can do this.
We can write this poem
We can read it.
for
peace
for
children and mothers everywhere.
Sing and rejoice for life
this day,
this day
and
tomorrow.
poetry for peace
poetry for peace
poetry for peace
poetry for peace
david michael jackson Dec 2 2004 editors@artvilla.com