I see them marching on the Washington Monument, Some on crutches, some in wheelchairs, waving Their flags and daring the cops to arrest them,
But the cops are on “paid administrative leave,” And only Japanese tourists with i-phones Snap pictures for the family back home.
This is nothing new. The last time this happened, World War I veterans were demanding their bonuses. Until General MacArthur ordered his troops to fire
On the entrenched encampments around the capital. Compassion never lay at the heart of America, only betrayal, Seeing how much they could get away with without paying.
I would like to write about something else – The cherry blossoms in spring that litter The ground where the unknown are buried,
But I cannot turn away from the news feed On a monitor above the rest home’s cafeteria Where I sit, wondering who will remember me.
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I see them marching on the Washington Monument,
Some on crutches, some in wheelchairs, waving
Their flags and daring the cops to arrest them,
But the cops are on “paid administrative leave,”
And only Japanese tourists with i-phones
Snap pictures for the family back home.
This is nothing new. The last time this happened,
World War I veterans were demanding their bonuses.
Until General MacArthur ordered his troops to fire
On the entrenched encampments around the capital.
Compassion never lay at the heart of America, only betrayal,
Seeing how much they could get away with without paying.
I would like to write about something else –
The cherry blossoms in spring that litter
The ground where the unknown are buried,
But I cannot turn away from the news feed
On a monitor above the rest home’s cafeteria
Where I sit, wondering who will remember me.
[Disposable Poem October 3, 2013]
Dr. Mike