Poem: “F-16s”



I heard the roar of F-16s
Cross the city overhead,
Sentries high on kerosene
Who on their airy pickets sped

And we beneath a city wall
Without a stone or battlement
Thought no more of our downfall
That such patrolling should prevent

But when the walls go up it means
There is a gate that must be closed,
Documents that must be seen,
Private life to be disclosed

So that at last the guards deform
The shape of life they should defend,
And no one knows of what they warn
Or if the siege will ever end

September 5, 2011


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