TYFYS
or
The Unburdened Happiness of a Carefree Being
VAman said, “Thank You For Your Service!
Now find a seat and wait your turn in line.
Hope y’ain’t in no hurry, ma’am, gonna take some time.”
Thinking 22 Vets a day cannot be acceptable!
Are you surprised that her war ain’t over?
Knife’s edge ain’t no place to live for long.
22 battle buddies. Daily. Over.
Her truth’s so hard to come by and she’s got no stories.
Keeps them buried in her John Wayne o.d. duffle bag.
Hiding in the open, she looks just like one of us,
but can’t look you in the eye and her tail don’t wag.
“Reach Out” screamed a poster in VA waiting room.
“Get Involved” the next one loudly pled.
VAman hissed “Here’s a stack of forms to keep you warm
and occupied, here’s some more to fill out when you’re dead.”
VAman said “Maybe see ya’ in a year or not.
Oh yeah, did I thank you for your service?
Here’s a sack of pills to help you with that droolin’
and take a bunch of these if you get to feeling nervous.
“Speak Your Truth” said VAman’s newest poster.
John Wayne’s gone but duffel’s still on the floor.
“Tell Your Stories” to her would be unbearable.
Well guarded, unavailable
her precious, her core.
Her truth’s impossible to come by
and she’s got no stories
crammed deeper in her o.d. duffle bag.
Hiding in the open, she looks just like one of us,
don’t look you in the eye and her tail won’t wag.
“This ain’t real.” as the drum beats louder
pounding at the edges of her daybreak dreams…
Once a vague outline… in the wire, there’s
movement in the wire!
“Uhh, thanks for your…”
VAman’s deaf to her screams.
VAman whispered “You gotta report to the specialist,
cuz we ain’t seen this kinda thing before.”
As he showed her out mumbling dismissing
she saw 22 was the number on his door.
The truth she tells now is teeth-crackin’ hard
but she’s got her endless stories.
She set fire to her shit and the John Wayne duffle bag.
No longer hiding in the open she looks just like one of us,
with nascent shiny eyes
and did her tail just wag?
by Contributing Poet Mick Gehl Copyright © 2025
VWP 2025 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
or
The Unburdened Happiness of a Carefree Being
VAman said, “Thank You For Your Service!
Now find a seat and wait your turn in line.
Hope y’ain’t in no hurry, ma’am, gonna take some time.”
Thinking 22 Vets a day cannot be acceptable!
Are you surprised that her war ain’t over?
Knife’s edge ain’t no place to live for long.
22 battle buddies. Daily. Over.
Her truth’s so hard to come by and she’s got no stories.
Keeps them buried in her John Wayne o.d. duffle bag.
Hiding in the open, she looks just like one of us,
but can’t look you in the eye and her tail don’t wag.
“Reach Out” screamed a poster in VA waiting room.
“Get Involved” the next one loudly pled.
VAman hissed “Here’s a stack of forms to keep you warm
and occupied, here’s some more to fill out when you’re dead.”
VAman said “Maybe see ya’ in a year or not.
Oh yeah, did I thank you for your service?
Here’s a sack of pills to help you with that droolin’
and take a bunch of these if you get to feeling nervous.
“Speak Your Truth” said VAman’s newest poster.
John Wayne’s gone but duffel’s still on the floor.
“Tell Your Stories” to her would be unbearable.
Well guarded, unavailable
her precious, her core.
Her truth’s impossible to come by
and she’s got no stories
crammed deeper in her o.d. duffle bag.
Hiding in the open, she looks just like one of us,
don’t look you in the eye and her tail won’t wag.
“This ain’t real.” as the drum beats louder
pounding at the edges of her daybreak dreams…
Once a vague outline… in the wire, there’s
movement in the wire!
“Uhh, thanks for your…”
VAman’s deaf to her screams.
VAman whispered “You gotta report to the specialist,
cuz we ain’t seen this kinda thing before.”
As he showed her out mumbling dismissing
she saw 22 was the number on his door.
The truth she tells now is teeth-crackin’ hard
but she’s got her endless stories.
She set fire to her shit and the John Wayne duffle bag.
No longer hiding in the open she looks just like one of us,
with nascent shiny eyes
and did her tail just wag?
by Contributing Poet Mick Gehl Copyright © 2025
VWP 2025 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Bio: Mick Gehl 101ABN 73-76. Not a poet. A retired teacher, Psychiatric Aide 3, operating room technician (scrub tech), drivers ed. instructor and more. Grew up in WI. After the Army, moved around till a move back to WI.
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Westerly, Rhode Island, USA