Ave JFK

 

                                                               Look not to a constellation

                                                               For a portent for the nation.

                                                               As still we live beneath a pall

                                                               With the meanest rent of all.

 

                                                               Ask not for a sign celestial

                                                               Beaconed to the realm terrestrial.

                                                               Ask instead how deeds infernal

                                                               Sit before the Judge Eternal.

 

                                                               What can we do for country fair?

                                                               What can a mere plebeian dare,

                                                               When honored men have gravely spoken,

                                                               Leaving trust in honor broken?

 

                                                               Trust your judgment, trust your eyes,

                                                               Take no comfort in their lies.

                                                               Let them make their devilŐs pact.

                                                               Keep your integrity intact.

 

                                                               If Teutons can tear down their wall

                                                               And gulag commissars can fall,

                                                               Then truth at home at last can out,

                                                               Assassins can be put to rout.

 

                                                               With no Mark Antony in sight,

                                                               The land can still be put aright,

                                                               So we can say before we die

                                                               That we have ceased to live a lie.

 

                                                               Though history cannot be reversed,

                                                               We still can learn how we were cursed

                                                               To blunder badly in the East

                                                               And see the dogs of war released.

 

                                                               Could one so flawed have done so much

                                                               To keep us out of evilŐs clutch?

                                                               ÔTis true, indeed, we hardly knew him.

                                                               Ere we had a chance, they slew him.

 

                                                               David Martin

 

 

 

 

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