O Babylon

Now to shrink and to swallow,
to whiten the wind with a blinding flash
of hot white light. But where,
 oh where have you gone?
To a graveyard, a boneyard?

You are courageous as any
of the elite and privileged men
of the Bush administration.

You will live again. Your name still glows,
incontrovertible.
There is an intelligent plan.

A light in the deserted sky
as the fame of the hero swells;
the flame of a proto-star
is formed from the condensation
of interstellar truths.

Thrice troubled before he dies
but where, oh where have you gone?
Taken to Babylon’s grave.

O Babylon,
you lose the battle and anthrax begins;
the story of your hanging gardens
ends like a forgotten
and fading dream.