BAGHDAD EPITAPH


I suppose you could call me a human shield:
I prevented a bullet from hitting a wall.
I got in the way searching for water.
It wasn't my game plan at all.

I got in the way of so many things:
empire, democracy, dictatorship
diplomacy, policy, propaganda
(somebody's ego-trip).

I lie in a dusty Baghdad street.
Bosses drive over, wave after wave.
Here is the cradle of civilization.
Here is my early grave.

3.12.03