AFTERMATH
Nineteen seventy-five
The March Against the War
We huddle in the steep hills around Concord
as Phil Ochs wails songs against the war.
in the darkened valley below.
The war has seeped over into Cambodia
Fat cat politicians
spiel lies they hope we buy.
Now I am the one wearing the torn jeans,
hair past my shoulders
One big difference.
It's the politicians I hate.
Bring our boys home, my chant!