There is something primal when they get you where you eat.
They cut into your gut.
You stare and stare at the pretzel receipt.
You weren't there at the time the planes hit.
What does it matter?
You were there.
You were there just as you were once
In the Jerusalem Sbarro which was also hit.
Of course you could have been praying in a settlement
Or working in an office in the Towers.
Would it matter now quite as much
If your serenity had not been shattered
Just as you were licking your chops?
