for her next press briefing bricks &
shattered glass at her feet we stop
off at the px for space food sticks
this has been going on now for more
than a thousand days all the quaint
denials deferrals & cryptic demands
wrapped up in one tress of her hair
in this green zone we talk of many
things without rush or interruption
after all we’ve got a millennium to
sort through our stories & alibis
we were never here (special forces
it’s all too plausible (elections
we’ve made a difference (coalition
we’ll see it through (presidents
sheherezade slowly washes her face
knowing that this morning may be
her last chance to pre-empt their
empty statements & gravity bombs
the tigris & the euphrates confer
with her thumbnail dipped in tar
& now it’s time for dates & blogs
& book deals hey woody harrelson!
one thousand and one nights away
a ghost sleeps in fallujah where
another tale is being spun from
the silkworms of dirty bombs she
slips on a prayer mat & is gone –
irradiated by the baghdad dawn’s
eclipse the roadblocks disappear
special forces (we were never here
