Abu Ghraib

•

Guilt,
my hair shirt—
detainees kicked,
hung from the ceiling in chains,
menstrual blood and urine poured,
hoods, dogs, genitals—
if I could do something
I would.
Still, I imagine
people in their millions
filling the streets of every town,
in the squares,
before the White House,
the Capitol,
the Mall—
all shouting
NO NO