Chicano Poet

Monday, March 14, 2005

Baghdad Vacation

We fly in by
Russian cargo plane
fearing for our lives,

landing with a thud
we breathe
a sigh of relief for now.

A contact has
acquired three bicycles
which we

will pedal
all the way
to the Green Zone.

The one thing
about this country
that overwhelms you

is the dust.
This is a desolate place
getting destroyed every day.

The Iraqis
hate the Americans,
don’t be fooled at home.

We finally arrive
at our hotel,

We are
under no illusion now,
this will become

a conservative Moslem state.
Allah shadows
the American troops,

the soldiers turn
nervously around,
but they can not see him

blinded as they are
by their own American-biased
wrong-headed point of view.


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