A Loss of Vision
As we grow older we grow honester,
that's something.
-Yevtushenko, “Zima Junction”
I drove a friend to his
ophthalmologist
When I walked him into the
office
He could perceive only
light and shadow
After we left, some four
hours later
He could read the fine
print on his McDonald's coffee cup
Miracle. Laser surgery.
Miracle.
The McDonald's was our
third place to try
For coffee; the first two
chains were empty and wrecked
Lake Charles is still a
mess after hurricane-curses
This summer, with wreckage
everywhere, street signs gone
Houses blasted and empty,
shops blasted and empty
Work crews along some
streets, silence along others
Dear Leader never bothered
to notice
The new Dear Leader won't
bother to notice
They send our children
overseas to bomb people
And build them new
infrastructure and then
Bomb everything again
We are trying to be good
Americans
Our golf-course presidents
and
Keyboard-kommando
generalissimos
And feeble Merovingian
Congress
Fist-bump each other
Only my friend has his
vision again
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