By Glenn Buttkus 

June 2008

I stood in the pre-dawn chill

and pumped 4-buck gas

into my pick-up.

Suddenly consumed

with unspeakable anger,

I shook my free fist

at the Shell sign --

standing there tall

and sullen

and silent,

arrogantly golden

flashing

its $4.15

for regular gas

message.

I thought about

The Bush War

and what it is costing

us/me,

and about the fat cat

oil barons

who hang out with Junior

swilling Lone Star

and counting their tax-free

trillions.

The New Millennium Crusades

suddenly swam belligerently

into my cortical net,

witnessing Bush stir up

the Muslim wasp nest,

sending our youth

into harm's way

to face the barbs and stingers,

RPG's, roadside explosions,

and suicide bombers

who themselves

are barely old enough

to enjoy

the promised 100 virgins

in Jihad Paradise .

A few yesterdays ago

there we were

post-9/11 in 2003,

wanting to strike back,

wanting revenge

for the terrible toppling of our towers, and the callous crushing of the innocent thousands, as death was brought to us on our own silver wings, diving and plunging straight down, laden with high-pitched screams from jet engines pushed to full throttle and passengers hoarse from fear.

Something had to be done.

Who could we punish?

Who could we kill

to satiate our blood lust?

George W. Bush, Jr.

and all his father's posse

smiled like hyenas

in a silent pack,

and their greedy index fingers

pointed back,

straight at Iraq;

telling us repeatedly

that right there was the heart

of darkness,

the den of murderers,

the scourge of the earth;

plotters, terrorists, and enemies --

that Bush was ready

to lead us

into a holy war

that would finish the job

left undone by his daddy

in 1991 --

that as righteous patriots

we should take on

the rag-tag Republican Army

and run that ruthless fox,

Saddam Hussein,

to ground;

for he was a madman,

an abuser of human rights,

a killer,

a dictator,

a womanizer,

a sodomizer;

and not only

did he absolutely possess

weapons of mass destruction,

but he fully intended

to send unmanned squadrons

of drones

to our eastern shores,

that were fully laden

with biological germ warfare payloads.

75 senators were duped, cajoled,

and convinced,

thus launching

Operation Iraqi Liberation;

soon to morph into

Operation Iraqi Freedom.

During the one month assault,

we overran Hussein's finest troops

like shooting coyotes

from horseback,

and it only cost us

139 American lives.

"Outstanding!"

was on the commander's lips,

followed by,

"Let's stick around a while now,

and assist the Iraqis into forging

a Democracy."

We all recall

the smirking grin

and lying eyes

of warmonger

Donald Rumsfeld;

and that late afternoon

five years ago this May

on the USS Abraham Lincoln ,

when Commander in Chief,

President Bush

emerged from a fighter

wearing a flight suit,

stood spread-legged on the naked steel deck, waving his thunder bolt helmet and declaring, " Mission Accomplished!"

And presently

here we are,

knee-deep in Year 5,

fighting "asymmetric warfare,"

without front lines,

against a faceless enemy

that hides in

and melts into

the civilian population;

just like before

in 1964 --

except now we are immersed in

and surrounded by

civil war and insurgency,

as we are being branded

the Occupying Force,

once again;

spilling blood for greed

and democracy --

being taught hard lessons;

like we cannot curtail

the flow of Jihad insurgents

by cutting the head off the Hydra,

or its whelps,

or its lieutenants --

for new warriors

spring like cockroaches from the shadows, craving to join the resistance to the Infidels and Capitalists, arriving in dark clumps daily, like monsters rising out of the blood-soaked waters of the Tigris and Euphrates -- making us pay every day for patrolling the Sunni Triangle.

Oh God,

when will the madness end?

How much black gold

has to be pumped

into profit

from the Iraqi

fat oil reserves?

How many more

retired Special Forces

will have to be recruited

by Blackwater

to protect Bush's

real agenda?

The numbers for Y5

are staggering!

U.S. dead: 4,079.

U.S. wounded: 30,000.

Contractors dead: 1,028.

Contractors wounded: 10,569.

Iraqi death toll: 1,000,000.

Iraqi combatants dead: 10,800.

Insurgents dead: 22,807.

Detainees: 43,000.

Like in the 60s

when the carnage

in Viet Nam

was broadcast to us daily,

splashing red and futile

on our living room television screens -- today our forced occupancy of Iraq is beamed immediately by satellite to every home, for all of us to see and cringe as the pride of our loins are kicking down doors and pumping hot lead from their Mossberg shotguns into the Islamic populace -- are being ambushed around every corner, Green Zone or not; witnessing the riddling of those poorly armored Humvees, those High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicles, with bullets bought in black markets, originally manufactured by us and sent to Saddam when it was his job to fight the Iranians for us.

Our young men

and women,

do their duty,

without hesitation,

becoming hard-hearted

and stone-jawed --

even though many of them

may be stop-lossed

or extended

by their loving government

to stay

in the fray;

professional targets,

standing atop

an M1 Abrams battle tank,

or racing down some dangerous narrow alley in their M2 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle, or screetching through those mean Moslem streets in Strykers -- the dead brown skies above choked with Apaches, Kiowa Warriors, Black Hawks, and Chinooks -- the dirty twilight punctuated by the deep throb of dozens of .50-caliber lethal heavy machine guns -- patrols partially protected by howling M249 SAWS.

Yes, Lord,

we see it all;

and feel overwhelmed

with intense grief and anguish

as this cavalcade of cavalry and contractors are at this very moment toiling in the acrid white dust of the Middle East, providing the opportunity for the petroleum bullies to force me to have to pump their goddamn

4 buck gas,

and shake my inept fist

at a stupid sea shell,

and snarl terribly

at those barons unseen,

but most certainly

felt. 

Allen L  Roland  http://blogs.salon.com/0002255/2008/06/03.html

Freelance Alternative Press Online columnist and psychotherapist Allen L Roland is available for comments, interviews, speaking engagements and private consultations    ( allen@allenroland.com )