Requiem for a Rumsfeld

You were the pointing, WASPy
dad of every girl I could
never fuck. Propping up
fake concerns since the 50s,
when the bad guys had flags.
When you'd never get to
bind your enemies in chains, in planes,
in blacked-out goggles
for thousands of miles
until they arrive in cages
on nobody’s soil.
Bye, Donald Rumsfeld.
You will never imagine how
you wronged by thinking
so right.