December 21, 2001
History Never Forgets
And enter the gunmen
one sad and ominous night
murder’s mandate in every bullet
Paymasters waiting in the crook
of night’s arms, eager
for a convoy of corpses
And a rude shot put out the star
in our Christmas sky
and the shepherds lost their way
To the Bethlehem of our re-birth
carols blackened into dirges
seething every line with the anguish of our rage
A pall fell on the yuletide feast
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streets emptied into horrified silence
markets wore their stalls like absent belts. . . .
Still we ask: Where are the fingers that pulled the trigger that night
Where, their paymasters in powerful places?
Waiting, still waiting
The hunchback nation
Cannot hide its burden