A Poem Of Defeat
Grandpa marched across Europe
He fought the battle of lice and fleas.
"I just stuck my gun over the trench
Above my head." he told,
"Shut my eyes and pulled the trigger."
He came home to a wife,
And fought her for forty-five years,
But never won.
After she died
He wrote her name on a pillow
Stood it on a chair
And cussed at it for days;
Then after the bile was drained
He threw it in the dumpster
And sat down in the chair
To read a western.
He read westerns
Alone in his room for fifteen years;
He knew loneliness well
After forty-five years with Lisle.
He died of a ruptured artery.
I would have done anything to escape his funeral
But the military chaplain was a laugh
Trying to make good out of that bitter old man.
I hope I never get old,
And if I do I think I'll
Run away and join the circus,
Become a clown,
And make balloon animals for kids.
(c) Adron Dozat 2015
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