an unknown soldier…

he had been
dead
for
a couple hours
but
no one noticed
since
he often napped
in
the afternoon
in
the shade
of
the war memorial
to
vietnam vets
he claimed
that
the figures
on
the memorial
were his unit
and
the one
leading the charge
was modelled
after
him
lots of folks
would just giggle
and
say
sure man
that’s you
though
there was
a strong resemblance
anyway
he said
it’s my
right
to sleep here
so no one
was really concerned
about
his long nap
could have been up late
making the rounds
of
restaurant bins
last night
you’d be surprised
by
what they throw out
so
he may
have been feeling
like
a stuffed cat
needing
to sleep
more than usual
so
no one was concerned
until
the police
showed up in the park
along
with a contingency
of
border patrol agents
making
one of their routine
round up
the mexicans
and
vagrants
strategic operations
it was then
when
his friends
got concerned
he didn’t respond
when pushed
by
an officer
of
the law
he
just
laid there
motionless
someone
said
he got buried
in one
of those
national
cemeteries

 

a question of burial rites…

Getty Image

pastors
of
god’s new light
support
mr
trump
and
his
disciple senators
his disciples
are
capturing people
taking
them
to the church
of
blind obedience
and
massacring them
during
animated religious rituals
in
the senate
their dismembered bodies
can be found
along
the border
on
battlefields
on
city streets
or
in
veterans’ hospitals
though
some
concerned citizens
have become
alarmed
the blood
still flows unabated
so far
the only shields offered
have been words
like these
that have yet
to
stop one child
from
dying
with no parent
to
ease their passing

 

2020 reconnaissance…

empty champagne bottles
in
the bin
new beginnings
for
some
for
others
the nightmares
continue
during
evening festivities
few
found
the
fireworks
frightening
except
for
that
old man
under the highway bridge
who
always wears
worn
army fatigues
when
the sky
roared
last night
he
scurried
into
the soggy culvert
at
the base
of the hill
dragging
his sleeping bag
as if
it were
the body
of
a wounded comrade
a comrade
he
refused to leave
to
die alone
in
the morning
as
i drove home
from
the party
i
saw him again
covered in mud
carefully
surveying the terrain
before
repositioning himself
and
friend
beneath
the bridge
to
continue
life’s
battle

 

santa’s true identity…

seeing
the brown bag prophet
delivering
bags of food
embossed
with
the traditional commercial image
of
santa claus
to
vets
living
in
the city’s
homeless containment camp
i decided
to poke
a little fun
at
him
i said
you know
the real santa
must
be black
in order
to be so
invisible in our society
he quickly responded
that
if santa
was
black
he’d be shot
on
the first roof
he
landed on
or
imprisoned
for
christmas cookie
and
milk theft
the prophet
then said
but
i do like your spirit
posting a rare smile
he added
although
it’s like snow in the desert
i wish for a year of peace
he did an about-face
and
returned to his task