The name of god is O
She was born in Baghdad
between the legs
of that fertile crescent
The O
The zero
invented here between the waters
of the Tigris and the Euphrates
The Gate of Ishtar shines
one hour’s drive from Baghdad
Paradise, Eden’s Garden,
the cradle …
all rising out of the sand
Towers fall
like the speakers
incomprehensible
leaping from the listing Babel
The O
The zero
The zero and the one
are returning to Baghdad
in the shape of bombs
Babylon fell
Babylon with its
women falling, falling …
We are Babylonians
The one
Our godhead
the horror occurring
in the city
of too many nights
The one dropping
out of the sky
birds dying mid-flight
piercing the fragile O
Disney duplicates
replace the old languages
with the one true tongue
American English slipping
between the fissures
The centre of the world
It was here they cry
now moved below the horizon
of the setting sun
Ishtar’s sky boat
setting far too low
The zero and the one
the binary base prevailing
here in Baghdad
it was ancient time
it was Ur time
It was base ten
and base sixty
one to ten
one to sixty
one hour and one minute
The Hanging Gardens
wilt and die
The flowerbeds of
the Sumerians poisoned
by those proclaiming
one world
one market
How many bombs
can you drop
from an unpiloted aircraft
in one hour?
What is the power
of one?
How many years of history
can you decimate?
How many civilians
can you count
without the zero?
There have been too many bombs dropping recently. This poem was written during the bombing of Iraq.
This poem was published in my book The Butterfly Effect (2005)
https://www.spinifexpress.com.au/shop/p/9781876756567