In trying to prepare myself for Obama’s Afghanistan speech tonight I went back to another charismatic, inspiring president whose desire to curry favor with the forces of militarism produced a dispiriting episode early in his first (and only) term. Robert Bly captured the mood of bleak awareness in this poem from The Light Around the Body:
Listening to President Kennedy Lie
About the Cuban Invasion*There is another darkness,
A darkness in the fences of the body,
And in moles running, and telephone wires,
And the frail ankles of horses;
Darkness of dying grass, and yellow willow leaves;
There is the death of broken buttonholes,
Of brutality in high places,
Of lying reporters,
There is a bitter fatigue, adult and sad.
There is no blindness like the blindness of leaders who refuse to learn from history.
____________
* “On April 20, Kennedy told the American Society of Newspaper Editors that the [Bay of Pigs invasion] was Cubans fighting Cubans and that the U.S. had not been involved.” Details here.
I really can't say I'm shocked or surprised, but yes, sad. How many ways to say Vietnam?<br /><br />At the first anti-war demonstration in which I took part (in the fall of 1969, in Minneapolis, I was 15, my first year in high school), one of the speakers read out loud Robert Bly's poem "Counting Small-Boned Bodies." (Not sure who the speaker was, it wasn't Bly himself.)
Agreed. Sadness shared. Can't get the word "quagmire" outta my head.