that I think I'll carry in my heart the rest of my life.
Blood Remains on the HandsThe least blood, a small squirt when removing a needle, two drops, that's all, no more than two drops, and suddenly it is everywhere. It remains after all. Wipe and it returns. Look about and it is in two and three places. Wipe those places and the blood does not go away. Two drops appear as a needle comes out and then it is endless.
Blood from the body of a baby bombed to death in Baghdad, blood by the pint, running onto the street as fast as a swift river, has magic in its pure infant cells. Of course you cannot scrub the street clean because the blood from the baby already has covered the street and is in the air.
Blood from a bombed baby in Baghdad goes over the wide choking sands and it crosses mountains and then great land masses and then suddenly, over a channel, it is in Westminster, in London, and people look at the sidewalk and wonder where these large blood spots came from, and the officer on duty in front of 10 Downing Street looks at the door handle and worries, how did this get here without me seeing this and having it cleaned? He has a servant rush to the door with cloth and polish and he wipes the blood and polishes the door handles and then walks off and the guard happens to glance at the door handle and the blood is back, smeared bright new red over the polished handle.
The baby's blood is off to rush over the ocean, a strange red cloud poised to rain and it floats over the green of the Washington parks and goes down a sloping street to the State Department, where as a man opens a car door for Colin Powell he suddenly notices blood on the door handle and he quickly unfurls a handkerchief and wipes the handle and Powell gets in and the car goes off and the man who held the door is left in the driveway and he sees the red that is still on Powell's door handle.
http://www.commondreams.org/views03/0331-11.htmThanks Jimmy, for speaking the truth to these criminal fucks!
:toast: