Homecoming

Homecoming
Tattered and torn return the American boys,
Now, they are men, having seen the worst of humanity
Unwashed, deteriorating, fighting warm blooded poor
The enemy, the savage, knows less than I do
Like a beautiful fool marching, into
The green light on the starboard side of a Sikorsky,
Then shouldn’t I cry, shouldn’t I be able to answer his cry.
They cry,
And I,
Can’t try,
To lie,
That’s why,
Why?
Why do I, pry into his place,
I pry, only after they pried first,
And only after I pry, to repent their try when they pried,
Only then will I cry.
The Men are home, now life is reborn,
Not a renaissance of truth and enlightenment,
But a rebirth after a great journey,
A journey across the rivers Hant’an Ch’on and Styx
Through the fire and evil, a vacation
With no itinerary but to hurl,
Oneself at the most conceivably awful, wonderful
Face of humanity.
That is why,
I cry,
Only to know the confusion, brought home,
On board CV 21’s and B-29’s, next to soldiers and bombs,
Cynicism and unhappiness brought home,
And tossed into the melting pot.
Childhood,
Combat,
College,
Conformity, conspired, controlled, cast as a company man.
Come home,
Whether from war,
Or for dinner at six.