Memorial Day

Our children were forced to go to war
So they could pay for college,
With bombs to kill hundreds or more,
But they only found a village.

Hapless villagers prayed to their gods
As they were run off a high ledge;
Our children, chasing, barking like dogs,
“See? This will pay for college!”

And so they marched on Graduation Day,
Their hapless parents cheering;
And village ghosts, like out of Judgment Day,
Around the bleachers peering.

“We’ve come to see the children grown,”
The godless ghosts cried clearly,
To snatch from them the fruit they’d sown,
Tuition in lives paid dearly.

Numb and dumb the graduates were struck in their places,
Wings covered their bodies, crows’ beaks on their faces.
Cawing, hawing, into the sky flapped the murder of crows,
Unmentioned, save in prayers – a silence no memory knows.

Faggot

Your crackling energy
Brightened the room
And our faces – the first
Bottles flowing soon.

Boundless and lively,
So merry and gay,
You pranced about the room,
Lighting our faces –
A welcome boon.

Corks popped as we talked;
Great Days returning and their haunts.

Did you not like our conversation?
You seemed to demand always the attention.
Hissing like a cat and grasping at the air,
We could only laugh at your sullen stare.

Corks popped as we talked;
Great Days returning and their haunts.

But the party could not last forever.
Heads nodded; hours wore on.
And the shadows of your brilliance
Flitted from glass to glass,
Over our faces – through the plate glass
Window into the long night.

Oh, how you despised us then.
For you knew that, in our lazy silence,
You were smothered, spent.

And, oh, the contempt you felt then.
For your fiery beauty, sweet and youthful,
Had by night’s end fallen,
A face ashen mournful.

Yet, in your glowing embers of resentment,
Lies the memory of our Great Days.
We – without you – the silent faraway stars;
You – without us – the dark spaces of the night.