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June 6, 2024 - the 80th anniversary of D-Day when, in the early morning hours over 150,000 troops, mostly 18-20 year old men, under heavy German gunfire, landed on the beaches of Normandy, France to begin the Allied invasion to liberate Nazi-occupied Europe. In the ensuing months 73,000 were killed and 153,000 were wounded in the Battle of Normandy. The Allied bombing of the surrounding villages also killed 20,000 French citizens.
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
Over there
babies were cooked alive
in microwave ovens
for thrills
and politics.
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
The breasts
of young women
were sliced off
and kicked around
like footballs -
videos uploaded
to social media
to show the gunmen
living their best lives
to family and friends.
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
They danced and cheered,
called mom and dad
to celebrate
killing Jews, so proud,
"I killed a Jew!
Allahu Akbar!"
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
They took hostages
at gun point
and knife point,
babies and mothers,
children and fathers,
to use as human shields.
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
University students
some from here,
others visiting
on a semester abroad,
pitch tents like refugees,
wave flags, chant
Genocide, Apartheid,
'From the river to the sea', and
'There is only one solution
intifada revolution'
in solidarity,
useful idiots.
I write a poem.
Useless. Idiot.
4 comments:
Better to be a useless idiot than a useful one? It seems so!
I think what you are trying to say is that it is useless -- idiotically useless -- to try to write a poem about these atrocities. No poem can undo what has been done. No poem can assuage the pain.
It’s a terrible feeling to want to do something about injustice and the best you can muster is a poem. And not even a terribly good one. The saving grace to being an idiot is that at least I’m not being used to aid and abet someone else’s atrocity. And at least I realize I’m an idiot.
Perhaps we're all mere idiots in the face of unspeakable pain and suffering.
(Cross-reference Dylan's excellent song, "Idiot Wind".)
Well said. Apparently idiot comes from the Greek ‘idios’ meaning ‘private’ or ‘own’. And that may have something to do with the poem, although I don’t know what. And next time we see each other you’ll have to explain that Dylan song. It’s a doozy.
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