Un bon croquis

Un bon croquis vaut mieux
qu'un long discours

They cut us down like grass
for daring to disobey


And to be honest,
Moving against them was a mistake
We could have cared less about slaves

We just wanted
White fields of cotton
and Gold and Barley
The winter rye
The summer corn
And our women

Southern Women
In soft and white lace
lightly coated with talcum
like teacakes

And Lemonade
Ok, Maybe with some Tea mixed in

But they were angry at us
for building factories
in Atlanta
Powered by water
and Machines
and water wheels
and steam

It was 1861
we were rooked
by a small invasion and then
the fine people of Charleston
into fighting
their war machine


We were half their men
And we made twice their kills
We shot so many
We ran out of ammunition

In the second year
Lincoln changed things
It is far better
a man dies for freedom
than some some colored ribbon

We were pretty sure
He had read Napoleon

They Won

The rest is history
A set of lies agreed upon

But

There is a secret image
In an abandoned facility
in the desert

Enter if you dare ..



Still there?

Napoleon
was haunted by a scene
until his death:

A soldier
upon the ground
his dog licking his face
howling
against a moonlit field

He said:

This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home
and in his regiment;
yet he lay there deserted
by all except his dog.
I looked on,
unmoved,
at battles which decided
the future of nations.
Tearless, I had given orders
which brought death
to thousands.

Yet here I was stirred,
profoundly stirred,
stirred to tears.

And by what?
By the grief of one dog


The only victories
which leave no regret
Are the ones gained
over ignorance