Vietnam Revisited

Distant thunder rides Asian wind,
rumbles across oceans,
echoes down years.
Who sent this awful noise of war?
Deafening roar of pain, of death,
made whores of village girls,
made us climb, veins on fire,
a stairway to smack heaven.
Can I buy you for this pack of cigarettes?
Unmoved by crying almond eyes.
Burning mountain, ignite the sky
with death’s hot desire.
Acrid napalm smoke billows
higher, higher,
over a raped country’s dying sigh.
Alien, tortured forms
locked in final embrace,
shining wet in monsoon rain,
washed clean of blood.
What will cleanse us
of our guilt and shame?

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