Sonnet: Body Under a Running Stream
Amusing at first, but then not. North by the Tigris
until we reached the Spirit of God, hovering over the dark
waters, finding more in common with them than we’d thought.
Diverting their water to other, less amiable purposes,
bounded on the north by the Book of Genesis, on the south
by the Gulf of Aden, four angels caught in our crossfire.
Those who arise each morning and put on two faces,
facilitating a more effective dialogue, not surprised
by reports of new atrocities gathered in the face of fresh,
new press restrictions, persistent rumors of imminent
withdrawals, counterpointed by PSYOP projects
that invariably failed to accomplish their purposes—
to persuade, to change, to influence,
to interdict, to dissemble, to re-elect.
Hal
Halvard Johnson
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