Viet Nam
When I think of
I see barbed wire on campus lawns,
Shots burst out but books not guns
Fall from lifeless hands.
I spent the war in the states
Carrying signs and
Singing about peace.
The black and white cover of Life
And pushing past redfaced men in
Hard yellow hats outside
Close as I came to that fight.
Viet Nam
Now that all the soldiers are back
Pumping gas and watching Joe Montana,
I am drawn to the green battleground.
From underneath the stands of the arena
The aroma of burnt flesh rises in air
Filled with red and black confetti.
My senses wait for pain to punctuate
Sentences spoken without thought.
I look for a maniacal MacArthur,
Bold like the commandments, to turn
Us back to what dared us
To choose sides and cross lines.