A Poem by Stan Raines

For Don Rumsfeld

One hundred thousands souls or so
Fit the measure quite nicely.
Every mother’s child can count that high
Don’t need a reason why
Every body’s count still adds up
How many grains will fill the cup?

How do you measure the oil
You’ve brought to a boil?

I wrote this poem in response to our former Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld’s, lament that he had no way to measure victory in Iraq. “Where are the metrics?” he said to an assembled mass of media types, most of whom could not admit they knew without also admitting their complicity in a wrong war at a wrong time in a wrong place. Rumsfeld’s very words should have been enough to convict him as a fool, at least. This poem may be another of those reminders of how poor a fit poetry is for political commentary.