Poets against the war
FEAR
In your wretched holes
where you're barracaded counting your accounts
you're fearful
on your sick bed
paying for comforting embraces
you're fearful
in your churches
where you mix chants with checks
you're fearful
on your streets
in your cars
you're fearful
in your house
with thorned lights
you're fearful
in the restorant at your table
eating ill-gotten meat
you're fearful
fear is your suit
fear is your nation
fear is your fellow