Cuban Missile Crisis

Why beat a neighbor child

With a ne to share a fear?

I did it after Kennedy's dare

And the navy's impel on Cuba.

I told him no single ever failed to die.

He was missing in the furniture;

A hutch's notch a rocket's hacked-out path.

He couldn't grasp my unlooked for passion,

But it was solitary a random act of conversation

Taken to most distants

I described missiles running in packs like dog

Warheads whelping above our nation,

Sirens spreading their helpless wings,

The not divisible by 2 slap

As we caught and break open like gasoline.

You see; I not ever guessed the Reds would scare

And normal winter tend hitherward again.

I was different then--

Responsibly lonely;

Even politics was possible

In the funnel of my afternoon.

But now my furniture directs my organ of vision

Ottoman to kitchen table,

On and upon

BACK ISRAEL works for a chain of gasoline stations headquartered near Philadelphia. His metrical compositions have appeared previously in APR.

Copyright World rhyme Incorporated May/Jun 2000

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