And Behold, it was a Dream 


The other night I had this dream.

It was crazy – oh how crazy!

I don't know what I had been eatin'

Or drinkin' or maybe smokin'

But I tell you it was crazy,

And then some.




I was sat in front of the little box

Watchin' something, boring Italian football,

Or maybe a late night, adults only

Stupid, boring sex film ...




And suddenly, there he was,

The President, old Bushy,

With that cramped, worried half-grin,

As though he expected, any minute,

Some nutter would take a pot-shot

And send him home to papa Kennedy,

The quick way.




And he was sayin', “We won't stand for it;

We're gonna pound them Kaliban

And that Bin Labin and his terrorists

'Till they won't know what's hit them.”




And I thought, “O, not again,

I heard all this before.

Vietnam and Iran, Iraq and all that Gulf War,

Old Johnson, Reagan and who else?




But he stopped, did old Bushy,

In mid-sentence,

And looked straight at me

And all them Security men,

In their smart suits and wooden faces,

Looked straight at me.




“No, I don't mean that at all,”

Says old Bushy, straight at me

“nothin' like that that at all.”




And then there were pictures of ships

Cargo, not battle ships,

Crossing the ocean;

Aircraft carriers, too, with 'planes ready.

And then 'planes were over Afghanistan

Offloading their cargoes;

Sacks and sacks of flour,

Warm clothes and blankets for the cold weather;

Medical supplies descending by parachute,

Easily constructed prefab houses,

With men to put them up;

Doctors to work in the prefab hospitals,

And care for the sick, the crippled, the blind,

And save starving babies and little kids.




Some flights ran off course and bombed the wrong targets;

Dropping their loads over Ethiopia

And other starving parts of starving Africa.




And I see Bin Ladin and his terrorists

Throw away those bombs and rifles

And go down on their knees begging forgiveness,

And they prayed and gave praise to Allah.




Then there was Bushy getting out of his helicopter,

And he and Bin Laden embraced each other ...

And I woke up in a terrible sweat

Screaming my head off.




Then I looked at the magic box,

And they were bombing Kabul again

And the refugees were fleein' by lorry-loads

And the babies were still dying

And the starving were still starving ...




And I heaved a big sigh of relief

Because I could see everything was quite normal




And it had only been a dream.






Copyright © Bernard Gilhooly - All Rights Reserved