His father got his little soldier boy,
just like he wanted,
but 25 years later said to him,
on Memorial Day, “Your name
should be on The Wall.
Then you would not
have to suffer with the living.”
His father began to weep,
shaking uncontrollably.
He raced to the garage
like he was going to throw up.
Later he returned like Popeye
who had just finished
a can of spinach,
more like a half-pint of vodka.
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