Here you will find the Poem Scattering Flowers of poet George Hitchcock
It is our best and prayerful judgment that they (air attacks) are a necessary part of the surest road to peace. Lyndon B. Johnson There is a dark tolling in the air, an unbearable needle in the vein, the horizon flaked with feathers of rust. From the caves of drugged flowers fireflies rise through the night: they bear the sweet gospel of napalm. Democracies of flame are declared in the villages, the rice-fields seethe with blistered reeds. Children stand somnolent on their crutches. Freedom, a dancing girl, lifts her petticoats of gasoline, and on the hot sands of the deserted beach a wild horse struggles, choking in the noose of diplomacy. Now in the cane chairs the old men who listen for the bitter wind of bullets, spread on their thighs maps, portfolios, legends of hair, and photographs of dark Asian youths who are already dissolving into broken water.