I’m in my house,
air conditioner blowing on a hot
day,
The oily smell of ground beef
cooking
on the electric stove
“Glory Glory Hallelujah” bellows
from the
television
over the tick-tock of my walls clock
The first president I ever really
knew of
has just died
His wife stands dignified
just at the the top of the stairs
on the arm of a true military man
American patriotism riding on the
backs
of every note
sadly dripping from spit valves
The Battle Hymn of the Republic
broadcast all over the country
And I feel that a part of my is
sliding
around the velvet lining of the
casket
The innocence of my youth will soon
be buried
And no matter how challenging, or
“non
conformist” I can be,
I know that this is a sign of life,
pushing on
His wife appears
twenty years older
than what felt like yesterday
and strangely I feel like I am a
part of something
bigger than me
There’s nothing like watching
the flag snap in the wind
against cloudless skies
And before returning to my life
I take a minute to realize,
that I may actually miss knowing
that this
man even exists…
Originally published in, Radical. (2007)