City Poems: Saigon
"God---if we had it coming, who the hell didn't?
only us, while it is Summer Here, the sweating mud still grasping,
only we---still lifting our cement-laden feet. The whirring Blades,
Damn it all! But if we were Young then, clean and full of Spring.
now we helplessly Sneer at the Young.
ignorant, who the squalid mire and Rain
goring Each faint little Boy. How lovely we Were. How sad.
How lovely in our Dying Years...
Too many of us Survived and then simply did not.
Still: what with the proper moral attitude,
all the steam, and the day-after-night-after-day helicopter Blades
(interesting swan songs! To cry…) the hazy chopper-tines,
Go on---that was real!? Lord…
our hopeful selves and the elevation-in itself-of the word "airlift"
night falls on Another city, Worlds away from here, yet right Above"
A/N: I love Billy Joel ^-^! Does it show?