As a youth I was outraged
at the train car buried at Hanford
full of dead beagles who
were subjected to radiation tests.
It seems an unbelievably
innocent thing to hate, now,
and also like walking past the homeless
and worrying about their dogs.
They lie scattered across the globe,
victims of the endless churning maw
of capital and statecraft,
and our chief and his chief diplomat
have no clue how to respond.
Cannot comment, will not acknowledge.
I say to you: be angry about whatever.
Pick the fight you prefer.
But dear heavens, you must fight.