From Apple Pie to Olive Oil
Safety has a price (beady eyes set in a
greasy face) Security comes with a cost (Jackie
leaves Uncle Sam for Zeus!) Children torn from
baseball and apple pie to languish
among urns and olive oil. Skyscrapers down
to temples, Heaven to Olympus.
What can you do for your country?
Bobby’s bed sheets rustle with soft
accusations (“Why are you leaving?”) The sky
of Teddy’s eyes swims with whiskey clouds (“Do you
even love him?”) Mother sighs with
concealed delight – no boulder will block
her cash flow, the green river to Grecian shores.
What can you do for your country? (Stop it, Jack!)
John’s lips pucker in handsome
defiance. “What about my friends,
Mummy?” he cries in a tone so
unbecoming of an Adonis who will
tempt mortals and goddesses alike.
“I don’t want to live on an island!” (Never
mind that he strides princely through the
streets of Manhattan, turning subways and
taxis into his own iron Camelot.)
Carol’s eyes fall defeated to the plush
carpet. She too longs to remain in the
realm of dances, with young men impressed
by de facto nobility. Muscular bodies roam the shores
of the Atlantic but grow weak and weary miles west of
A nation glares on; TV screens flicker
in colorless judgment. Blue collars – with
their talk of equality, their inherited
resentment of monarchy – sulk as though
the queen has abdicated her throne.
What has she done for her country?
© Copyright 2016 Adam Van Buren. All rights reserved.
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