we started school during
the Korean "police action"
like extra syllables made
murderous mayhem more
palatable than calling it
another dreadful WAR,
half a decade after we won
the last one
those of us who survived yet another
crazy Asian WAR are now fading fast
I take in news of our passing
with my morning coffee, reading
the obits like they were the sports
scores
and every one I see whose numbers
are smaller than mine remind me I
am playing Russian roulette with the clock,
every hour
were it within my power,
I'd spin those hands backwards
to a day before cybertime
when Donny, Johnny and I went
to the park to toss a hardball into
well pocketed gloves, and discovered
the delights of peanut butter and
marshmallow cream sandwiches
back, back to a day Ike was pres,
and I would watch The Twilight Zone
with religious fidelity--back, to a time
so ancient Maris had not yet slammed in
number 61, chipping away
at the Babe's immortality
some told us the end was near,
and death by fierce fire was a reasonable fear
long before the missiles of October
and JFK's intrepid blockade
but the mushroom clouds never did appear,
and here I am with Medicare card in hand,
living in the same land where men with funny
hair make ominous "tweets"
and Manchild dictators with tiny peckers
lob missiles into the sea
wishing Clark Kent were still around
ready to don his cape and take a leap
and a bound, and save us
from ourselves
but first he would have to find a phone booth
in which to change...
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
we started school during
the Korean "police action"
like extra syllables made
murderous mayhem more
palatable than calling it
another dreadful WAR,
half a decade after we won
the last one
those of us who survived yet another
crazy Asian WAR are now fading fast
I take in news of our passing
with my morning coffee, reading
the obits like they were the sports
scores
and every one I see whose numbers
are smaller than mine remind me I
am playing Russian roulette with the clock,
every hour
were it within my power,
I'd spin those hands backwards
to a day before cybertime
when Donny, Johnny and I went
to the park to toss a hardball into
well pocketed gloves, and discovered
the delights of peanut butter and
marshmallow cream sandwiches
back, back to a day Ike was pres,
and I would watch The Twilight Zone
with religious fidelity--back, to a time
so ancient Maris had not yet slammed in
number 61, chipping away
at the Babe's immortality
some told us the end was near,
and death by fierce fire was a reasonable fear
long before the missiles of October
and JFK's intrepid blockade
but the mushroom clouds never did appear,
and here I am with Medicare card in hand,
living in the same land where men with funny
hair make ominous "tweets"
and Manchild dictators with tiny peckers
lob missiles into the sea
wishing Clark Kent were still around
ready to don his cape and take a leap
and a bound, and save us
from ourselves
but first he would have to find a phone booth
in which to change...
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