Snapshot: picture Mel Brooks,
Yoda, and Ebenezer Scrooge
rolled into one old man.
One time a man took me from the street
and gave me home, gave me warm, gave me light.
But a souvenir from ’Nam
ate his family, his little boy, a little girl
their loving mother.
Today at the V.A. I saw this gnarled troll
waiting for his medications
eyes all predatory, same Portuguese nose,
old stale menace his mouth.
Some things are best left buried,
better left put away, out of sight
and out of mind, locked in a cage.
No comments:
Post a Comment