I’m a ghost of the ghost of my former self
from a time we poked fun at the foibles of men
laughing at Bilko and Navy McHale
recognizing schemers without fail
even in uniform.
Not so anymore. No need to dwell upon it
No longer are we part of them
We’re on the outside looking in
for everyone of them’s a hero.
Parade you on the football field
“Thank you for your service”
slaps on the back, cheerleaders flirt;
in the owner’s box (like you belong)
passed around like a favorite bong.
while lawyers cheer between the punts
corporate types and soccer moms
all want a piece of a teenage grunt
making fifteen grand a year.
then pack you off on another “tour”
fighting wars we can never win
You think that they would know by now
you only joined ’cause you were poor
still the madding crowd is down
they “honored” you but the home team lost;
A playoff game they’d hoped to host
while you are off to God knows where.