Who Cares?
The Reverend Moon from Korea
is perhaps tunneling into America,
like a bagworm on an apple.
A just return for the horrors
of our armies
and Ike's "I will go to Korea!"
Moon means us no good,
but Bush means us ill.
They are each eating the fruit,
the apple that is the world,
and mothers are making popcorn.
Who cares if the third world population
explodes?
They'll only starve anyway.
What is it one cup of coffee is equal to?
Fifteen acres of forest?
No, it couldn't be that.
My daughter thinks they are aliens,
those not exactly elected
multimillionaire Republicans.
But all the fathers are at the ball game,
or, asleep in their easy chairs.
-- Ruth Stone
Posted over on Poets Against War
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