You
promised you’d do anything to end
It;
now my daily view on you depends
As
you flex and gird for our mutual defense,
In
patching holes in our porous fence
And
chasing evildoers to the ends
Of earth
and crawling into any den
In
search of foes who raise a hair of suspense.
But
when you bristle when I question you
I
fear we’re somehow going to the wrong:
On
why you think it worthy trailing me
Or
censor where I go; I’m feeling blue:
Security
become a tyranny;
When
through the darkness, what awaits the dawn?
Ernest
Cardenas
San
Francisco
September
11, 2002