It’s been a long time since I heard that Carl Sandburg poem, but it never fails to make me feel that way I did when I first walked into Arlington. Or, for that matter, while visiting the American cemetary in Normandy.
I wonder what Baghdad Dick feels in his tiny, shrivelled, ailling heart when he drives by Arlington in his smoked-window limo or flies over it on Marine One?
For that matter, what do you think Chimpy feels?
I’m thinking it goes along the lines of: “Suckers!”
*sigh*
It’s been a long time since I heard that Carl Sandburg poem, but it never fails to make me feel that way I did when I first walked into Arlington. Or, for that matter, while visiting the American cemetary in Normandy.
I wonder what Baghdad Dick feels in his tiny, shrivelled, ailling heart when he drives by Arlington in his smoked-window limo or flies over it on Marine One?
For that matter, what do you think Chimpy feels?
I’m thinking it goes along the lines of: “Suckers!”