III

The latest warning fired at Peking
by Izvestia
did not go unnoticed in Washington.
What however is really being thought there?

The President appears on the evening news
chatting comfortably with his pastor
at the church door,
and there are rumors
that he likes to barbecue outdoors
and tear down back roads at 80 miles an hour,
but it does not reassure.

Undone by an idea,
a sense of global mission
(long nights
and chill winds there).
Speeches, as if unveiling
our destiny,
shaded by biblical Lincoln.

Addressing Congress last week
he appeared
sad and tired,
as if he had no alternative
now but to persist.

Age of Grievance.
" If you prick me,
do I not suppurate? "
At a thought
turns to white heat, a creeping lava.

They say he is willing to meet with his counterpart
any time, any place,
but he will not be the first man
in the White House to lose a war.

Out rushes therefore flaming napalm,
follows
the little Cessna spotter plane,
a white phosphorus fuse,
roars into gun pits, tunnels, villages,
sucking out oxygen;
roads and river banks explode,
helicopters, batallion strength, hang overhead.
Now thundering, jet-fast
cluster bombs,
exotic guavas,
reduce to ash
even the turtle
dozing in the deep cave;
mile by mile, by order,
the provinces:
Bin Dinh, Phu Yen, Pleiku, Quang Ngai,
by instrument
so fast,
it takes a moment
for the air to explode,
a moment of intimacy
with the American god
in the range-finder;
and Genesis.

Hunter's world
" All I got today were two water buffaloes
(approximately two year's income for a farmer)
and a pregnant woman "

Charlie, I am afraid
the American god
does not take you very seriously.