(Let's hope this meets the expectations of the Earthrise Press)

'Horatian Ode Upon Rumsfeld's Attack on Baghdad'

Poets (cowards, it would appear)
Must now forsake their Muses dear:
   No more criticizing,
   Or dreams of publishing.

It's time to leave the books in dust,
And oil the unused tanks that rust,
    Removing from the wall
    The rifle in the hall.

For restless Rumsfeld could not cease
In the inglorious arts of peace,
    But through adventurous war
    Became the New Right's star:

And like his fine jet fighters, first
Breaking the clouds with a loud burst,
    He summoned the Allied
    And the world did divide:

For they're all one to his party,
The hesitant, or enemy;
    What others may propose
    They staunchly must oppose.

Then burning through the air he went
And palaces and mosques rent;
    And Saddam's head at last
    Removed with one hot blast.

It's madness to resist or blame
The face of angry Heaven's flame;
    And if we will speak true,
    Much to the man is due,

Who, from semi-retirement, where
He lived, supported by much prayer
    (No doubt reflecting on
    Bush's defeat by Clinton),

Could, thanks to business lobbies, climb
To ruin the great work of time,
    Blast Europe as too old
    And leave one million cold.

Of course, there are those who complain,
Plead multilateralism in vain-
    But those do hold or break
    As men are strong or weak.

All those who joined a peace protest
Will be put sorely to the test.
    Indeed let them make room
    For Rumsfeld - boom, boom, boom!


(with apologies to Andrew Marvell)