"Love it or leave it," the man on the radio said.

As if it were that black and white.

Barbara Lee receives threats,

For not joining in lock step with the rest of the House,

To give "Dubya" a blank check.

We are a towering giant,

But perched between our shoulders is a boy puppet,

With his ignorance on parade.

The glint in his eye when he talks of retaliation and crusades,

Insights violence and condones revenge killings.

In our rush to patriotism,

The dove is trampled under foot,

On the floor of the New York stock exchange.

How are we to learn?

In the rousing of this beast from our slumber, we forget so much.

Where is the truth to be found?

Where is the light for us to follow?

Where is wisdom?

It is scratched on fading parchment,

Hidden away in a bomb shelter beneath the Smithsonian.

alex

9/19/01