i was in the basement that morning
when the country shook
and three shots got heard
around the world
while a fourth thudded dully
into the flesh of the earth
but there i was
in the basement and safe
from the outside world
devoid of dangers
from planes
or terror
or information

and yes i thought about my daddy
was he in DC
and what does he do, anyway?
and is anyone OK?
am i OK?
is he OK?
are we OK?
and “safe” started just being a word
for me that day
just like “free”
is just a word now, too
just like a building is just a symbol
of something else that supposedly remains
after the dead are carried away
after they extinguish the flames
and i wonder, if they’d have hit ms. liberty
would the effect have been the same?
would we have cried for that death
as for the others terror claimed?

trouble is that the truth is
that she was in that tower too
and she heard the explosions
and the twisting metal
and there was nothing she could do
she was helping people out the door
down the stairs
don’t look back
don’t look up
and then that wrenching sickened sound
choking black smoke rising
while the building tumbled down…
we buried liberty there–
another body never found.

and now i see that “freedom” is just a word
just like “peace” or “war” or “violence”
one more noise trying to be heard
over the blasts of the bombs
and the guns
and the planes
and the hot air spewing
from some fatted cowboy’s face
as he acts like he’s talking
for the whole human race–
it’s a holy crusade!
and we’ll leave not a trace
of the enemy that plagues us!
we will lay them to waste…

(except no one seems to notice
that you can’t kill hate
and you can’t kill terror–
but you can tempt fate–
violence begets violence
someone to retaliate
while that word strikes out at silence,
vengeful hungers left to sate.)

so amerikkka smiles big as justice is served
but i look and listen and read
looks like “justice” is just a word
just like “evil” and “good” and “victory”
nothing that can be assured…
because if “evil” is the enemy
then we’re all as good as dead;
because they won’t stop at Islam
and they won’t stop at Communism
dictatorship, drugs, or Socialism,
war is good for profit and boy,
there’s a war on!
a war against those dangerous,
free-thinking types,
against the Commies, and the Hippies,
and the faggots, and the dykes,
against environmentalists,
the proletariats, the kikes,
so many causes for fighting
that they’d suspend human rights…

so let’s raise the flag for our newly-won freedom!
now there’s freedom to search houses
and freedom to tap in,
to listen to what you’re saying,
watch where you’re going, where you’ve been–
seems that today even asking questions
is a sin…

but i’ll keep asking questions
they cannot search and seize my rage
i will not go gently
i will not disengage
i will doubt the windbag president
every time he takes the stage
because he does not lead me
i am not his citizen or soldier
i pledge allegiance to no one
who i cannot touch and see
“president” is just another
empty word to me
just like “dictator” or “demagogue”
or “liberty” or “free”…

these words all mean nothing
without the meanings we give them
you can bury terror next to liberty
under the rubble of freedom
because fear is a juggernaut
that rolls over every kingdom
unless we stand up to face it–
we are neither deaf nor dumb–
our words will ring out like shots
into the deafening silence
we will keep crying for peace,
will not wave flags for this violence
will not stand for ignorant bloodshed
will not let freedom be suspended
will not lower our voices
until this madness is ended…

because on that day in the basement
my world became words
words like “insane” and “unbelievable”
and “enemy” and “friend”
another call for conflict,
another battle without end
you can fight till no one’s standing
no more soldiers left to send–
but those people are still lives,
not words, not statistics, not points in someone’s score,
not enemies, not opposites,
not ideas we deplore…

you can be sure they’ll still cry “freedom”
when they’re breaking down your door
when they’ve found a reason why you stand
against them in their war
the only weapon we all wield
dies and lives within us:
it all comes down to just some words
still buried in the dust….
…
..
.