The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth <br />the vengeance; he shall wash his feet in <br />the blood of the wicked. Psalm 58 <br /> <br />It was the fortieth year since Buchenwald: two thousand <br />Jewish refugees in Sudan starved while Reagan visited <br />the graves of Nazis. CBS paid off Westmoreland <br />for their rude disclosure of his lies and crimes: <br />he had killed thirty of the enemy, let’s not forget, <br />for every one lost us: he was owed something. <br />That year, though, no terrorist could touch God’s work <br />in Mexico and north of Bogota: an earthquake here, <br />volcano there, and numbers do not signify the dead, <br />each corpse incomprehensible as to the widow Klinghoffer <br />her Leon, shot, dumped overboard as if to make a point. <br />Westmoreland said, the Viet Cong could be indentified <br />from the attacking aircraft as all personnel in uniform <br />below. Their uniform, he told us, was the native dress.<br /><br />Brooks Haxton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/1985/
