Nine minus 11 is negative two

Now, you probably thought

I was going to write about

The loss of the twin towers

And how the emptiness of the terror

Remains etched in our hearts;

But I’m not. Because the hole has since

Been filled with hate and fear and other stuff.

Negative two is like hatred squared

Where true believers wield swords,

Box cutters or bunker-busters;

To convince those who distrust the dreams

Of pax-Americana or promised paradise,

When neither peace nor virgins can be found.

Fear comes sold in colored bottles

(Red for chatter, green for satan)

By slick politicos and bearded terrorists

Who sprinkle it for selfish ends,

Whenever doubts begin to question

The wisdom of their global plans.

But let’s be honest.

The terror that occurred five years ago,

Our fascination with abomination,

Has mostly served as mental

And emotional fodder;

Something to fill the airwaves.

We feign indignation

Talk about determination

But never lift a finger except to

Write angry letters and poorly worded poems.