Foreign Policy Poem by Barney Rooney

Mamana Bibi works her land
in the north of Pakistan
picking okra in the crumble of the soil
thoughts run lightly on the task
on things to come and things to pass
the hopes and hardships in a life of toil


some blame the gods for worldly ills
capricious acts of careless will
and one such god is ready at his screen
he leans forward in his seat
a scene is set that he'll complete
in a distant place where he has never been


she works the earth head bowed
burst of light billowed cloud 
freeze framed just in case the target lives
even gods need to account
evidence the body count
to confirm Mamana no longer is  


a Hellfire missile did the deed
Boeing and Lockheed's
toy with which the gods can play
2 drones and the fire of hell
and a warning 'you'll do well,
to love us gods or keep out of our way'