'Hey How Come You'Re Not Watching The Game? ' Poem by Khristian E. Kay

'hey how come you're not watching the game? '

it's difficult to make out who is who
in the slip of blood and mud
where my hand ends and the
flesh of my brothers begin

we all are numb
from the visage from the
play this time around we are not
privy to the shots

I find this fact interesting

how at one time we had people
volunteer their service their
lives as war
correspondents

how we watched the bodies and
bravado come home
in boxes draped with flags
rows of boxes football fields long

Our children
our fathers
our brothers
and now, now...

there is no solemn taps or dance
we envision this
the caskets lowered in reverence
each draped with the universal symbol of American Democracy
American Freedom
the representative service men
providing the appropriate starched
creased salutation

no they are not lowered by the hands of their companions
they are lowered teamster like
crates lifted with a Wisconsin Lift fork truck
moved from plane to dock
cataloged by an exhausted yawning electronic clipboard
like we were signing for some plain wrapped package
from eBay

'hey how come you're not watching the game? '

©2007 All rights reserved