Memorial Day Poem for Grandpa
Tue May 29, 2007 Filed in: Poetry
Grandpa, you saved a
million dollars
but still fixed your cheap sneakers with duct tape
then spray-painted them white
you did so many tours of duty,
safely piloting back and forth the paraphernalia of war,
flying our boys home or to...
I imagine them saluting "Captain Bob"
and you minding over them
as a grinning shepherd with
big black muffs over your ears.
you loved your morning Metamucil
and drank the most awful beer.
the coffee you made was like rusty water,
but you were a master of evenly buttered toast.
you married a defiant poet from North Carolina.
I think she is in my blood more than you
because I am not like a long distance runner
or a dusty cottage by the sea.
you shopped often, but only
at the East Hampton town dump.
how many free oars did you really need?
I remember the catacomb of old lamps.
you told me the same jokes
every time I visited you.
they were all so, so bad.
like the one about an Indian and a V8,
which I can only tell to people
who will truly appreciate it...
they were the kind of jokes
a captain makes to humble himself.
Grandpa, the medals are so trivial
compared to your
duct taped spray-painted sneakers.
we need to learn how to wear
shoes like yours.
but still fixed your cheap sneakers with duct tape
then spray-painted them white
you did so many tours of duty,
safely piloting back and forth the paraphernalia of war,
flying our boys home or to...
I imagine them saluting "Captain Bob"
and you minding over them
as a grinning shepherd with
big black muffs over your ears.
you loved your morning Metamucil
and drank the most awful beer.
the coffee you made was like rusty water,
but you were a master of evenly buttered toast.
you married a defiant poet from North Carolina.
I think she is in my blood more than you
because I am not like a long distance runner
or a dusty cottage by the sea.
you shopped often, but only
at the East Hampton town dump.
how many free oars did you really need?
I remember the catacomb of old lamps.
you told me the same jokes
every time I visited you.
they were all so, so bad.
like the one about an Indian and a V8,
which I can only tell to people
who will truly appreciate it...
they were the kind of jokes
a captain makes to humble himself.
Grandpa, the medals are so trivial
compared to your
duct taped spray-painted sneakers.
we need to learn how to wear
shoes like yours.
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