Shadow War
A Poetic Chronicle of September 11 and Beyond, Volume Four
(Revised, second edition)
Paperback: 76 pp.
Published: 2004
Price: $14.95
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Starting on April 22, 2002, and concluding on June 16, 2002, Louis Daniel
Brodsky’s Shadow War, Volume Four traces the primary sources of
terrorism that erupted in America on September 11: Israel, India, Pakistan,
and Afghanistan. These poems describe, in bold detail, the desperation
of Palestinians and Israelis trying to survive what appears to be an
intractable knot of hatred and retaliation. Suicide bombers, demonstrating
the depths of radical depravity, are at the center of many of these pieces,
as is the Israeli military, frustrated by its inability to deter them.
The specter of nuclear war looms as well, in vivid poetic accounts of
the political and religious tensions assailing India and Pakistan throughout
their struggle to resolve the fate of Kashmir. Brodsky also examines
the fledgling government of Afghanistan, as Hamid Karzai strives, with
the help of the United States, to keep civil war from regaining control
of his country.
Other poems in this book are set in the U.S.: the workers at Ground Zero
finally complete their grim ordeal of exhumation; the Bush administration
warns that future terrorist strikes are inevitable and proposes creating
the Department of Homeland Security; Washington prepares to strengthen
its infrastructure, to ensure America’s political institutions
will continue functioning in case of attack.
As in the preceding three volumes of Shadow War, Louis Daniel Brodsky
writes provocative, compelling poetic narratives about the worldwide
fight for stability and order in a climate of spreading terrorism.
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Remembering the Premonition
This past September 11,
Eight unforgettable months ago, to the day,
Osama and his nineteen suicidal minions of doom
Wreaked hideous abomination on America,
Unwittingly did this nation a positive disservice
By awakening us, its stunned citizens,
To a renascence of communal patriotism,
Exploding our notions of insularity and safety,
Forcing us to assume an awareness of global affairs.
As I cast back over the vast genealogy of violence
Man has left in his wake since that morning,
All the hatred incubated, the death gestated, I quake.
My bowels churn, my nerves burn,
My muscles ache with chronic inflammation,
As though I were the living ghost of Hiroshima
Who rose from the glowing ashes of my bad dreams
Nearly eight months and a day ago,
Suffusing my bones with terror.
