Father's wars, my father lasting sins.

August new poetry number seven...

Father's wars, my father lasting sins..

(My served in the Korea war and the Vietnam war. After the war, he killed three people in bars for disrespecting his Ojibwa/Mexican face. Took him 50 years to forgive his sins.)

My father drank every night a bottle of rum and he couldn't wash the blood off his hands or his mind. He told me in the late midnight hours, we prayed for one more day and than we killed, son. We fought faraway wars for the politicians eating steak till they cannot and laughing at life, laughing at us.

They didn't remember the soldiers of yesterday war and the war of today. We prayed for more days and we killed and killed more men, we did not know. 

We killed and killed till the blood overflow our hands and our minds. We did not see them as men and we were taught the blood song. Kill and kill till the enemy is no-more.

When we returned home the leaders in Washington D.C praised us. They told us we were heroes and they gave us wooded nickels as a reward. They told the soldier, forget the war and move on.

Now us old soldiers, we pray for the men we killed and we drink the whiskey for friends, who cannot. 

He told his glass of rum, f**k you Senators and f**k you House representatives. Eat your f*****g steak and I pray God send you to hell. And you choke on your food forever.

My father would raise his rum high and he told the night. To my missed friends in the Korean and Vietnam dirt. I still remember you.

Coyote

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.