I almost hate to label a poem like this "anti-war" as it seems to oversimplify its themes, which are lovely, sad and tender. It's by one of my favorite poets, Galway Kinnell.

The Olive Wood Fire

When Fergus woke crying at night.
I would carry him from his crib
to the rocking chair and sit holding him
before the fire of thousand-year-old olive wood.
Sometimes, for reasons I never knew
and he has forgotten, even after his bottle the big tears
would keep on rolling down his big cheeks
- the left cheek always more brilliant than the right -
and we would sit, some nights for hours, rocking
in the light eking itself out of the ancient wood,
and hold each other against the darkness,
his close behind and far away in the future,
mine I imagined all around.
One such time, fallen half-asleep myself,
I thought I heard a scream
- a flier crying out in horror
as he dropped fire on he didn't know what or whom,
or else a child thus set aflame -
and sat up alert. The olive wood fire
had burned low. In my arms lay Fergus,
fast asleep, left cheek glowing, God.

-- Galway Kinnell


We seem to be moving closer and closer to war, and the Bush government plans an attack which will undoubtedly result in the deaths of countless innocent women and children. Bush described the initial attack recently with that typical tough-guy lingo the military churns out and that jingoistic Soldier of Fortune readers stain their pants over: it's called a "Shock and Awe" attack. So called because the massive attack would frighten the populace into submission. See Dresden. See also Guernica.

An attack like this on a country which hasn't attacked us, on its innocent civilians is unconscionable. In the context of our current world situation, it's also irreducibly stupid. Today I heard a co-worker comment that it's time for the United States to say "Fuck you to the rest of the world" and go ahead and attack Iraq. It's precisely that sort of cowboy sentiment that's gotten us into this mess in the first place. Certainly, Hussein should go, but this isn't the way to do it. Where's our so-called compassionate conservative now?