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Written by: joaquin
scissors, glue and
concentration;
patience and some
motivation
Henry doesn’t
talk a bunch,
puts in his teeth
to eat his lunch
then gets wheeled
to his room,
his glue and paint,
familiar fumes
over London,
over France,
see if Jerry
wants to dance
iron crosses
swarmed like flies,
one by one
dropped from the skies
Drove a schoolbus
fifty years
flak guns ringing
in his ears
then went home
to model planes,
Corsairs, Hellcats
in his veins
we lost a lot of boys,
you bet;
a few still up there,
flying yet.