Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Only my Friend has his Vision Again - poem

 

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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