I.
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.
II.
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.
III.
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.
IV.
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.
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