one-six-twenty

sundown america, one-six-twenty.
two-eleven morning tehran, where
the clutter flutters, shaking down
avenues of the blood oath.

vengeance! the echoes cry
voices of thousands
ricochet stone wall to stone wall,
sleepless to sleepless, dust to dust.

their general is dead.
ours is mad.
eyes wild, master of all
self images on multiple screens.

genius! the compliment flies
inner voice of one
ricochets lobe to lobe
sleepless to sleepless, dust to dust.

eyes of millions see
– perhaps to die –
sons of a something, both,
dead bodies, dead minds, dead souls.

Photo of mourners in Theran, Iran, 1-6-20, AFP/Atta Kenare — *Protesters in Tehran*

Categories: Poems

Tags: Behaving BadlyPoemsPolitics/Government

Martin C. Fredricks IV

Martin C. “Red” Fredricks IV here. I’m husband to an amazing woman who is also my best friend, dad to three outstanding kids, Fargoan (North Dakota, that is), proud introvert, veteran messaging strategist/copywriter, and big-time reader. As they say, if you're gonna write good stuff, you have to read good stuff. A ginger, too - ergo the "Red" - although some of it's going white. Cinnamon-Sugar, I call it. Tattooed to boot; seven so far. At age 54, I'm stilling crankin' AC/DC & Metallica, but now and again I spin some Eric Church and Black Uhuru, too. I love hanging out with my (much) better half, spending time with our kids, writing, hiking, riding my mountain bike and reading.