Destination

On As It Happens the other day, I heard from a lady from an organization of 9/11 families lamenting the closure of Camp Delta at Guantanamo Bay. Her husband was a fireman or policeman, I can't remember which, who was killed in the World Trade Centre on 9/11. She opposed Barack Obama's decision to close the camp. With venom, she called the prisoners there "animals", clearly blaming them vicariously for her husband's death.

I was moved with the degree of her hatred for animals. Reminded of the "cockroaches" of the Rwandan Genocide and George Bush being called a "dog" in the shoe throwing incident or cops called "pigs". When did being an animal become such a bad thing?

So I wrote this:

Power's tool,
A slur, fool:
Raghead maybe.
Perhaps Paki.
But still,
For good or ill,
The fate,
Of life awaits,
Us outside.
To have died,
Above the clouds,
Our burial shrouds,
Fit poorly.
But surely,
A worm's food,
Tastes as good,
From any source,
Without remorse;
In the end,
Compost mends;
The curse forgotten,
We are all rotten . . .

Animals.