The force that placed us here cannot be trustedA Poem by Robert Ronnow
At dinner, Zach asks
about our nation's history, wars. I say We're taking on everyone, one at a time. First Britain, then Britain again: "He was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be." Next Mexico: "Death is indifferent to what hide he tans; life crushes men like flies." The War Between the States: "Well done, Mr. Cromartie. Time now for rest." Most of Latin America: "Not only humans longed for liberation. All ecology groaned for it too. The revolution is also one of lakes, rivers, trees, animals." Then Southeast Asia: "The slight bump the mortars make as they kiss the tube goodbye. Then the furious rain, a fist driving home the message: Boy, you don't belong here." Now the Middle East: "A land to be admired like all lands. Harsh mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people, adapted ungulates, carnivorous mammals." Can't forget the Krauts & Nips: "Then I heard the bomber call me in: Little Friend, Little Friend, I got two engines on fire. Can you see me, Little Friend?" Nor the Commies: "You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the beginning of a new one. I put this book here for you, who once lived, so that you should visit us no more." The original indigenous people say: "In time we'll become prosperous, or else we'll become martyrs. The force that placed us here cannot be trusted." © 2015 Robert RonnowAuthor's Note
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