<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416205" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Meanwhile, In Another Part Of The War</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the street of the concrete refugee tenements<br>That have collapsed into the smoking holes<br>The Israeli rockets blew open at dawn’s early light,<br>The sundered limbs and torsos of a Jenin family<br>Lie with the shards and dust of their household,<br>Three generations, shredded like paper dolls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are no heads to be found. They never had heads.<br>If they had heads, the Israeli spokesman assures<br>The State Department, the U.N., the Believers,<br>The CNN camera, with his shy smile, in<br>His Noo Yock twang, they wouldn’t have been<br>Where the terrorists were.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Of the three-month-old infant,<br>Crushed in its cradle, and the eighty-year-old<br>Shepherd who retired twenty years ago when Israelis<br>From Russia drove off his flock at gunpoint,<br>And his son’s wife, and the schoolboy, all buried<br>In the holes the rockets made, which ones<br>Were the terrorists?” A voice off-camera asks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the spokesman shrugs and smiles<br>Shyly. The cameras and the microphones<br>Are already turned off.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were survivors. One, some say<br>The mother of two victims, has volunteered<br>To take the bus to Jerusalem.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Phillip+McAuley">James Phillip McAuley</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416205" data-title="Meanwhile, In Another Part Of The War de James Phillip McAuley" data-description="On the street of the concrete refugee tenements That have collapsed into the smoking holes The Israeli rockets blew open at dawn’s early light, The sundered limbs and torsos of a Jenin family Lie with the shards and dust of their household, Thre..."></div> </div> </div>

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