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15 Love Field There must be some conspiracy, some Warren Commission of love, some Oliver Stone, grassy knoll, coup d’etat hit from above. I will never believe again, will watch it all endlessly on the History Channel, on reruns on late-night A&E, my head snapping back like some Zapruder film of the dead, love’s Oswald, patsy, my blood running out ruby red, blown away, like Jackie Kennedy in her bloodstained Barbie clothes, standing next to Lyndon Johnson, the man with the bibulous nose, one hand on the Bible to show his friends and his foes that this is the way sometimes that it goes, the other held up in the swearing-in pose to show to the rest of the world that he knows exactly what’s going on. Nobody knows. ...

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