PUT THE CHANGE
IN THE APPLESAUCE
And - oh please - add the bills to the
collection tray. This is tricky treat day,
remember. There are four soldiers at
the window, just back from some war
or another. They were snipers, last, in
Sudetenand, and now, back home, they
need a job. So, so, they come here? I
have questions for them : why are there
so many wars, why do their type keep
volunteering, how many wounded equal
one dead, what's the ratio for that?
Down in New Egypt, Chesterfield, NJ,
whatever it is, there's a military cemetery
that runs for miles. Major Doyle something
or other. The place is filled with bones of
the returning dead : war after war after war.
No stone left unturned, as it were, but nothing
here but flat plaques, flush with the ground,
bragging. Every bit of service has its pride.
No 'gravestones' are allowed; just this flat
stuff; where all these preening types can
still proclaim they are equal, like the false
Liberty they claim to have fought for. Equal
this, equalizer bunny. The guns are in the
cabinet, the tanks are on the lawn.