What makes us so proud
that we might end up face down
on the kitchen floor one day
while our grandchildren
stand in the doorway
facing the humanity of us,
who were once heroes,
clad in a naval uniform
or a fine satin dress?
Now we resist until we can’t even
control our own mess,
and overcome by our fate,
lying half naked,
incapable of comprehending
a head held any other way.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
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