Once he watched, through a fence,
while the boy threw a ball.
His undivided attention, thru a fence,
the boy had it all.
Something he wanted, tho, not the boy;
a scene to be repeated and repeated ...
Nuclear family, nuclear war, no clear joy;
kiss my ass, boy, you're defeated.
Behold the flame, yellow, hot!
A field burns, smokes, for neighborhood fun.
Did the flame just appear? Likely not.
The flame was wanted, loved, unlike a son.
Again it appears, held beneath the boy's fingers,
burning yellow, burning hot, caressing the flesh,
While siblings watch, nuclear winter lingers.
Kiss my ass, boy, it was just a father's guess.
Years go by, bringing another boy to love, be wanted:
at the right age, burn his flesh? Don't know how.
Can the flame not burn with love? Does the vaunted
flame carry no message? Pain is now
Withheld and resides within, only love is the release.
Fingers and heart, unscarred, can play ball.
Nuclear family, atoms for peace,
kiss my ass, boy, the future is all.
Old, sick, the house is full tonight, ready for bed:
not one remembers: the greatest generation is dead.
The man no longer recognizes the boy, never did;
what happens between hate and love can't be read.
There's nothing here, what was is done,
beginning or end, you figure it out.
Nuclear war, mutual deterrence, nobody won.
Kiss my ass, Dad, it wasn't a rout.