I had a disturbing dream, surely inspired by the Houla massacre, which some people are claiming was a hoax. Keerist. It’s not as if children don’t die in civil wars. In any case, I don’t have much to say-or spin-or would rather put it in verse.

DISPATCH

An infant is not a toy.
An infant cannot breathe underwater
Or fly though the air. Do not drape it
Over the prone man’s head

Or dress it up like a doll.
An alias views the grisly scene.
Posts. Shares. Tweets.
Foreign observers abort,

Prominent commentators punt
But the drunken skipper acts,
Ordering clean sheets and neat rows
Down below in the hold,

Rogue Unidentified Man
Hoisting the limp boy aloft,
Manipulating our feelings.
Let’s not quibble.

It matters not if the child
Is southern or northern,
Grew spurs or knew pride.
It is as good as dead.

Crooked passages.
Limping messengers.
Frantic, tail-chasing-dog orbits.
A million ships couldn’t transport us.