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I don’t know it all, of course—
the in’s, the out’s, the going to
war, learning how to kill and
justify killing.

You learn the devil’s code against
10 commandments or other
dreams available to children
by listening.

Murder is never defense, the
attacker you fear’s heart does
not have to stop beating to
cease as threat.

John F. Kennedy was from so-
and-so peeps, Catholic Church,
big money from Dad’s bootlegging?
No matter to me.

He captained a boat, killed Japanese
people, survived a crash, helped
fellows survive, as the story goes—
that’s Jack.

The ignorance of alcohol abounds,
I used to call the Catholic Church
the Alcoholic Church, and why not?
It hurts!

They say he womanized, the sinless
throwing stones—many thrown by
his killers I’m convinced, evil converging
on 11-22-63.

A different time and era, sad for
those sad at tragedy; a father and
husband murdered, how different
from the Japanese?

Picked off sadly from a Texas knoll,
confused, bedeviled soldiers carrying
out orders of revenge for Bay of Pigs,

Clearing the deck for bloody Vietnam.

It’s tempting to be angry at death
and evil, but one must not play into
it—and instead love our enemies, they
hate it before converting.

“You think you can change the world?
It cannot be done,” yells Lao Tzu
thousands of miles and years away, yet
still we try!

Whatever Jack was before 1963,
he had become quite a voice for peace,
probably the world’s leading one
at death.

Same could be said of Gandhi. Martin,
Bobby, and John in December of 1980,
so many things we cannot control—
evil hurricanes!

I pray for the CIA, for murderers’ row
full of “Who knows?” and fraudulent
piety known as national security!

They need hugs not scorn, so hello,
I love you won’t you tell me your last
name?  No?  I love you anyway, I’ll
love you

until Truth sets you free.  To tell it
we must have safety, and with Higher
Power like the Jewish LORD psalmed
wisely by David

who could be against you if you
decided to break ranks with Fear
and blow the whistle, “Jack!!!  We killed

And we are sorry.  Sorry for Vietnam, for
the lies, for war and evil and injustice—
the money was good and we took it.

We didn’t know that fear is often
False Evidence Appearing Real, and
that there is a God, and that there
is a Heaven.

Find Love and God now!

Turn and find Jack within, forgive
yourself, see the less fortunate,
the unclothed give them a bite!

See that we could go further than
free the slave, we could give them a
piece of the profit they stoked,
the Native American pushed out
or killed

there and waiting to regenerate the
land with us, the litter we fanned
too much, the noise we fueled
to crush—

the Great Spirit battling serpent
covert ops, the secret devil in you
ready to be banished when you
accept poverty,

say no to easy money, lift palms
to the sky, see your spirit and
love connect embracing earth
and life.

Die now, old life!  To the killers of
Jack and to the Devil himself I
say no thanks, I give you my back,

and I smile because I love the fight
that wins every time we surge
to declare Truth at the scary dinner

three-piece suits and cigars over
flammable liquid sold and bought
as “drink,” the devil alive with every

Jack with the saints because with
his last breath he declared Peace.