shoot dick cheney through the eye if i am tortured to death in a corner of bagram air force base, in abu graib, in a black site tonight

so says the ghost flickering off and on like a midnight street lamp over a mexicali school yard

shoot henry kissinger through the right eye if i am to die with my children in a field, with my children in the desert, with my children in a ditch

so says the ghost flickering off and on like a parking lot light at a midnight sunset boulevard motel

shoot donald rumsfeld and donald trump through the teeth if i am to die in the worst possible way, bones dissolved in a barrel of acid, ashes swirling away at the dump

so says the ghost flickering off and on like the little lights in the heels of the toddler’s sneakers skipping down the sidewalk

night dirigible

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