O say Can You Hear?

The dripping Gorgon¹s head

over the sands of Iraq, spittle of snakes flame out

from a thousand gun barrels -

at last! the two worlds unite in the death struggle,

the two as one to make a third:

fantasy is reality is fantasy.

America has become its own horror cartoon,

each thought locked within its renegade cell,

Bugs Bunny holds forth in the senate on

the bankrupt dream-stocks buried at Fort Knox.

Donald Duck meantime jerks off in disgust

over the American flag - quacks

the country¹s been bushwhacked,

'ain¹t worth a hill of beans¹

in archaic colloquialisms of a nation near claim

jumping the Middle East.

The last capitalist gasp v the last medieval groan;

eventually, to make way for the eco-terrorists whose

motto: destroy what you cannot save: will sound

the retreat to a history vaporised - a memory erased.

So we come to inherit 'Our Common Loss¹.

The Space Shuttle Columbia makes

its long wave 'good-bye¹

bright finger nails tearing at the sky (like)

'morning Lucifer, that star that beckons all

mankind to daily rounds¹

scratching down God¹s blackboard

as seven souls fly away

toward the Pleiades.

So we make our omens to live and die by.

About

Stephen Oliver is the author of six major collections of poetry. His recent collection, Night of Warehouses: Poems 1978-2000, covers five volumes of poems and spans two decades. A poetry chapbook, Deadly Pollen, is to be published by Word Riot Press in 2003. Stephen is a transtasman poet and writer who lives in Sydney. http://people.smartchat.net.au/~sao/