Recall

Down came the rubble in a hail of death
And were it not catastrophe and carnage,
How beautiful the concrete in cascade.
We did not know, when from the Brooklyn roof
We saw the tumbling grey swathe all downtown,
Thousands then met their end, thinking perhaps
They got away, or like ourselves late risers
Were not at work yet. Bush complacently
Fiddled the while, complicit in the crime,
Not heeding that the Lord's judgement awaits
The watchman letting bandits through his gates.

November 2003