Reprint of "Iraq: A Poetic Profile" by Joe Kane

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 08, 2004

Iraq - a poetic profile
Your head lies hard on the gravestone of your past
As the boot of the West bears down upon your neck,
Even as its hands try to heal you.

A corruption runs fever through your twitching flesh
Limbs flailing against each other,
And like rabid and cannibalistic lepers
Twist off whole rotting chunks
That will fall off and die or eat themselves.

Set on the stage of holy books and history
The blood of innocents blends and darkens the mystery.

A country in between is the country of Iraq
Between the rivers that sustain it and at the same time drain its refuse
Between the black ocean beneath it that may yet feed its hunger
And the religion hovering above it that keeps its mind in perpetual starvation.

At once the cradle of civilization and the grave of reason
Home of tribe and veil and scimitar and prayer
And now, perch and nest for the Eagle from the west.

Slow your choked and ragged chant
A golden gift has arrived
Borne on the wide shoulders of the children of Aristotle
It must be molded
Lest it is smashed, stolen and scattered under the rising dust of time.

What folly of faith led you to think that butchery could prevail
When computer keyboards are mightier by far than Kalashnikov or veil?

Originally published on AbleKaneAdventures.