Ezra Pound in the September 11th Epic Poem

Survivors cracked but most came back
            To some-what happy homes.
With Europe burned the scribes returned  
            To write their gloomy poems.           
Another star had gone too far                  
            Who held our nation’s pride;
He took the stage while battle raged
            To serve the other side.
This native son had truly done
            What some could not expound.
They dragged him back to face the flack:
            That traitor Ezra Pound.
The special court was out of sorts
            And said he was insane,
But this small fact did not impact
            His literary reign.
Our poets quote the lines he wrote
            While standing on the brink,
And still today they frame the way
            Our scribes are taught to think.
His groupies still will say his ill
            Was brains and not his heart;
They’ve not decried the Jews who died
            While Ezra was so smart.
I’m quite enraged they call him sage:
            The leader of his class.
I don’t know why our teachers try
            To give this man a pass.
The simple fact they have his back
            When praises should be nixed;
Supports my poke that what’s been broke
            Has never yet been fixed.
(excerpt from chapter 11)

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