I haven't seen The Plaid Adder's 9/11 poem posted, so I'm going

to post it. She wrote it right after 9/11 and a copy has been on my refrigerator ever since. I think it's great and right on the point.


My mother was three when we won the world war,
And Kennedy died years before I was born.
I don't remember napalm or My Lai,
When the TV was on my folks kept me away,
I never knew why people asked, "Where were you....?"
Till I heard of the loss of the Challenger crew,
And now every September we gather around,
And ask, "Where were you when the towers came down?
What did you do when the towers came down?"

"I went to work early, the 94th floor,
With my coffee in hand, and I knew I'd need more,
I hadn't been working for Cantor that long,
I was still terrified I would do something wrong.
The the steel screamed in pain and the glass went to bits,
And I think I knew something below had been hit,
And the roaring of flame ate up all light and sound,
And I never knew when the towers came down,
I never knew when the towers came down."

"I jammed on my helmet and ran for the door
And thought, after all, I've survived it before.

We could not have known what we were running to meet
Till we jumped off the truck and we looked up the street
And saw jet fuel and steel burn and blacken the air,
And I thought only once, "Christ, we're going in there?"
But we ran toward the fire to beat the thing down,
And that's where we were when the towers came down.
That's what we did when the towers came down."

"There once was a place at the top of one tower
Where my husband washed dishes for eight bucks an hour.
When I heard, my throat closed till I thought I would choke
And I ran out to search through the panic and smoke.
I pasted up flyers so people would know him,
And how, if they saw him, to help him come home.
And I knew even then he would never be found,
But that's what I did when the towers came down.
And that's all I've done since the towers came down.

And the rest of us, who were not hurt very much,
Still woke the next day knowing we had been touched;
Still felt if unfair, as we learned of the toll,
That our lovers were safe, that our bodies were whole,
And from our helpless distances did what we could --
We gave to the funds or lined up to give blood,
And that's where we were when the towers came down.
That's what we did when the towers came down.

In September, in Texas, the sun can still scorch;
And while George clears the brush and his wife sweeps the porch
Maybe some afternoon all the Bush family
Will gather outside in the shade of a tree
And someone will mention that this was the day
That a bright morning sky brought disaster our way
And Jenna and Barbara will sit their dad down,
And ask, "Where were you when the towers came down?
What did you do when the towers came down?"

"I sat in a classroom and read to some kids,
Then I got on an airplane while Dick Cheney hid.
I preyed on their grief and I fed peoples' fears
And I learned to brew oil from Americans' tears.
I stood in the Capitol, armed with a lie,
And told grieving parents that more had to die.
And at nine every night I turned in and slept sound,
And that's what I did when the towers came down.
That's what I did when the towers came down.

still brings tears to my eye, all these years later

I had not seen it before.

k+r for those like me

The following poem (which should only be spoken aloud) was inspired by the historic visit of George W. Bush to a reading lesson at the Emma Booker Elementary School in Sarasota, Florida on the morning of Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

"Lucky Me - Guess I Hit the Trifecta"

Rome is aflame - the plebeians are dying (burning!)
While Dubya Three learns to read.
What fools were we that day - who only went flying (working!)
While Dubya Three learned to read.

Of my true love's truest smile, of her ev'ry waking mile
What is left to sort into the tomb?
Only vapor and tired freedom-justice-sibling dreams
Down to Ground Zero fall these dreams

Centurions expire in the arms of their slaves
"Lucky me, guess I hit the Trifecta."
Even Senators must crouch down in cramped and sealed caves
"If I was Dictator, It would be easier"

This isn't what we might have thought - Jesus would at this point do
'tis a strange reaction - from the captain and his crew
Is this really the right time - for leadership to cry?
Or should we better wonder who struck the match?

No corner of the world - is untouched or unknowing
When rogues speak for God in the Pantheon
(the Pentagon, the Pantheon...)
Ten thousand pounds an inch on us down will be pressing
As the brokers add value on to Raytheon
(the Pentagon, the Pantheon, the Raytheon...)

I don't know how - you were perverted
You were diverted - to the creed of tyranny
You never knew how - to do without your war
O, will your ship of freedom ever come?

I still wait, naive, for the day of America (a miracle, heretical!)
What's this America, you say?
America never was - America to me (kill machine - unfree!)
Still America one day must finally be.

...

A shout out to Langston Hughes
and to all who've known the blues
to Zora Neale and Emma Goldman
to the Haymarket Eight and Sacco and Vanzetti
to Julius and Ethel and the Crazy Beats
America, why must you eat your children?
Yeah, to JFK and Bobby too
to Malcolm X, Martin Luther King and Fred Hampton
to Paul Wellstone, the latest one they've killed - to Jim Hatfield
and to the man who could not be here tonight
to the Prophet of Tippecanoe
Tecumseh, take it away - can free your people?