On Giving Freedom

We did not charge hundreds of miles into the heart of Iraq
and pay a bitter cost of casualties and liberate 25 million people
only to retreat before a band of thugs and assassins.
– George W. Bush

It is easy
from her sunken eyes
to tell he isn’t all
she cracks him up to be;
she conceals the bruises:
long sleeves in summer,
a swipe of foundation,
excuses,

to fool no one;

she is unhappy
and tells me so daily, wants
something better, whatever it is
but her constitution wavers.

One if by land,
two if by sea
I’ll race in to warn her,
I’ll dump out the tea
I’ll strangle the bastard
to set the girl free;

but we have been here before,
and when night fades to daylight,
when the wounds are cleaned
her suitcase fills with fear,
her days fill with indirection;
and the shadow of him within her
falls over her again, and again
she will find him
capitulate, comply;

I would give her, if I could,
liberation on a platter,
a towel for her bloodied cheek,
safety; but I cannot help her
any more than I can free a butterfly
from the confines of its chrysalis;

I can only hope the gentle breeze
will lift her, speed her on her way,
but stunted, sticky-winged, she trundles on.