“Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble”
— Were You There,” African American Spiritual
….their sons and daughters lost
their arms and legs and faces,
their youth and joy and lives
at Ka-san, Ia Drang, Fallujah, Kandahar,
those flag wavers who know all about
battlefields and heroism,
second stringers who served but never
threw in for ambush patrol,
those never in combat who love
to tell war stories and march in parades,
the shysters of Fourth of July and Memorial Day sales,
politicians of sad excuses and devious deferments,
kings, aristocrats and generals
who rally their troops from behind the lines,
promise booty, glory and a gravestone
at Arlington Cemetery
Were they there when all hell broke loose,
the recliner brigadiers of the television wars,
or did they sit back, prop up their feet,
raise their glasses in airconditioned homes,
watch smart little bombs on virtual screens
penetrate windows and bunkers
with pinpoint accuracy
thousands of miles away
Were they on foreign soil
when they cheered the children
of the Revolutionary War
to fight false fights to save the sorry ass
of the greatest country in the whole world?
Sometimes it causes an old soldier
to rage, rage, rage….