there were old men on this
train
who he watched carefully
he watched them
to betray themselves
war is fabricated
and helped sold by veterans
old men
who may have served
the old men on this train wandered
its bouncing aisle
lustily grabbing handholds on
chairbacks
lusty
grabbing life by its hair
taking ever more and more
taking
and taking giving nothing in
return
thats what they feel they are
owed
this selfish lot feels owed
fifty
years later
theyre entitled
because they survived
perhaps
though they may not have fought it is assumed they did
they let horrors be assumed
they cant talk about it
they cant
because theres nothing to be
told
they let their rheumy eyes
speak
practised
bloodshot
they watched a war
long ago
death voyeurs
not operatives or death dealers
maybe theyre frauds
fakes drawing selfish breaths
that rarely catch in their
throats
then a sudden revealing pant
which passes too quick
their selfish breaths
consuming more and more
sucking
and quaffing
and stealing
Twosday,
approaching Santa Barbara, 11 11. 08
