The Emptiness of Hope Fled

Art by Norman E. Masters

The War Comes Home

When my Father was young
he worked in a barbershop.

When my Father was young he
formed his ideals in a barbershop.

My hair is long.


  The weight of
           my hair caved

     in the top of my

     said the police man

THE WAR COMES HOME I saw some people on the news today they were weeping over a man named george wallace who was shot some people were screaming you know like bombed vietnamese children

VIET NAM POEM Someday a Vietnamese mother will walk the steps of the White House to present Mister Nixon with a woven straw hat to protect him from American bombs. what will he say as he takes her dead child from under it?

Election Poem You'll know them enthusiastic lines scorecards in hands crying eyes and faces selling stock in lingering mushroom clouds and vacant wombs

If I reach out the wind moves the dust and alters what might not happen. Are we all to be murderers?

and people will call them patriots

                          ~~ Steven Krantz

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