Saturday, November 26, 2005

A poem from my grandfather.

(This is transcribed exactly as it appears on a tattered, tobacco-stained paper.)
March 30 / 1944
Anzio (Italy)
=================

Tho just a narrow strip of land,
of mud and wood, with beach of sand,
there never was more hated ground
than here at Anzio we've found.

We hate and curse the rotten place
and pray that God would speed our pace
to bring the enemy to trial
for all his deeds so base and vile.

Our comrades, now asleep in death
would cheer if they had life and breath
oe'r the shell pocked lines we go
to bring the battle to the foe.

Tho some have died, and many more
will pass from here through heavens door
the victory will soon be won
and clouds of war will turn to sun.

Our comrade in his hallowed grave
a hero for the life he gave
will not be with us as we go
victorious from Anzio.

Tho they are here and we are home
it's oft' to them our thoughts will roam.
We'll know they haven't died in vain
their lives were given for freedoms gain.
===========================================
S/ Sgt. George Goldfuss
45th Div. Co. h 179th Inf.

Friday, November 11, 2005

The girls I know..

She’s just a woman. That’s all.
She doesn’t mean anything in fact;

She’s just there, right then, at the moment.
Of course you like her,
and given enough poison, you’re in love.

But don’t forget that she’s just a woman.
She’s just like the hundred you saw earlier,
but she’s here with you, right now.
Clouded judgement rules the night.
And you long ago gave up on "the one".

God I want to be with you tonight,
whoever you are.

Some woman, are just some woman, I don’t care.
What’s important is the feelings we have right now.
Let’s pretend that we’re sober, and get this over with.
Tomorrow is another day.

Forgive me if I hide in my shell,
it’s my natural reaction.
You see, unknowingly you tried to take another woman’s place.
I set you up for failure. And you lose.

So, nice lady, you go ahead and seek out Mr. Goodbar.
I’ll be here, like ususal.
You may be looking for "the one",
I’m just looking for one to last the night.
Tomorrow is creeping up on me,
and I have better things to do now that I think of it.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Found in the folder from last year.

Perhaps it was the Doobie Brothers 8-track playing in the background. It was from his prized collection, so she turned it off and went back into the kitchen. The milk was just beginning to simmer when she took it off the no-name electric range. The celuloid capsules melted quickly in the elixer, and she poured it into her favourite Sapp Bros. travel mug. She closed all the windows and lowered their blinds. As the warm milk filled her body with a numbing whitness, she wished she could hear "Another Park, Another Sunday" just one more time.