Let if be when,
and let when be whenever
the carrier churns its wake
into a frothy Arabian dream.
The children on the roof,
the old men talking coffee and kief,
will be born again
when the afterburners scream.
And then we shall all wake
and thank mighty Zeus
that the wooden horse could lock and load
on the peasant's curtain door.
We will be grateful
that adulterous Ilium burns once more,
that Cassandra's tales of collateral misery|
were the first casualties of war.
~William Hammett
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