Gary Jacobson


Nancy m’lass…
Don’t mean no sass
But methinketh ye have us old salts pegged
Or did ye hear that cough us old timers gagged
More like wearing worn combat boots
Than worn out suits
Frayed slightly around the edges
Yet fickle life still encourages
In unabashed wonderment that we are still here
To twist the fancies of you m’dear
Giving heck to those clueless ones
To get a grip or they’re the ones
That’ll soon be totin’ guns…
O yes, I’m afraid of what they’ll do
With that bright future we left them too
For if they learn not of what we did
If from the stories of history hid
Their future will be on a slippery skid
And they won’t be counting that proverbial flower
As much as pushing them up thru mud sweet and sour
That’ll bring more condemnation to cravens that cower
Hour by blessed hour
For they, like we did, do believe they’re indispensable
That’s to me incredible
But when push comes to shove will find they’re expendable
Their whole world upendable
Just like all the rest
Pawns of powers that sent them scampering to another test
Fighting yet another war to end all wars
Till they’ve sacrificed all the boys next door
So who’s to blame?
They’re just playing their little game
Over and over again and again
So ends this saddened refrain…
Do I dare sign my name to this one… lol!
What the hell,

A Response to the poems “Terminals” and “Determined Vets” ©Copyright 1996 and August 20, 2001 respectively, by Nancy L. Meek