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on Sept 11, 2005 I went to a rally with my daughter and Emily, In there I met Ameena . Shahram Vahdany 9-11
9-11 is the trigger for the dull black gun shooting relentlessly the droves of eastern bodies that apparently do not ache and bleed like the fractions of western bodies shot once. Images of crying, crimson-smeared faces, flashing in slow-mo across TV screens to euphoric melodies, humanized this one shot, while the millions of shots back flicker through empty skies and hazy terrains like candles swaying in the vacant air for America . The Iraqi boy, armless, scorched like a fire log at Christmas in Washington , is liberty for America . The thousands of babies swaddled in blankets of depleted uranium will erode for the sake of democracy. This is the payback, they say, for this assault on our building. Five years of gouging with gritty, star-spangled claws into the bellies of Iraq and Afghanistan is just recompense for this singular incident. The conversion of the origins of civilization into an ashtray in which we rub and rub our yellowed cigarette butts will ensure the preservation of civilization. Be first to comment this article | Quote this article on your site | Views: 1520
Tags: 9-11 A Poem
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