The murder victim was close to God, 6-5, tall and thin

called The Sheikh by the young men he took in.

Even when he was on the run, he’d risk a drone hit to phone his mum.


Geronimo avenged Iraqi kids killed by the UN sanction

For offering his government that he would oust Americans

Geronimo got home detention, passport surrendered, prohibited from his millions


He disdained Qadaffi and Hussein as much as anyone in London. He kneeled on cushions.

It was not permissible to break a pledge of allegiance, even that of infidels.

This, he taught his minions.


Geronimo would answer questions with a prayer followed by a murmur

Of soft Sunni lips. Geronimo had diabetes and low

blood pressure. He’d save Arabia from its Stone Age state of Jahiliyyah.


He had bad kidneys but shared cheese and beef feasts

and assuaged the fear of famous Paki journalist Hamid Mir.

12 kids in his care, a granddad with pride, before he died, he dyed his thinning hair.


Geronimo did poems at weddings, and recruited college kids in lonely countries

He asked after widows. His soliloquies, subtle and gentle as a Hindu Kush breeze

spoke of Indian tigers and genies


In central Asia, he stood in front of Russian tanks and four times a day gave God thanks.

Immigrants from Malaysia to Tangier sweated at his side on the same construction sites. Geronimo built holy roads in Mecca and Medina.


In 20-Ten, a cool tall guy from Chicago’s south side, devoid of street cred

Elected on a platform of compassion, once the George Bush-antithesis

Who, now president, was desperate to impress, was


bummed out by a Black Panther candidate coz he’d done Harvard steada prison;

made to feel less of a man by John McCain for never havin’ lobbed grenades at Asians;

In between meetings, this guy pulled two aides aside and ordered the hit. Took half a minute.


“Coz I’m home-grown, I ain’t no Indonesian Kenyan Hawaiian

So what if I gotta whack a guy in front of four wives,

a man called Gramps by fifty little kids.”