by Chris Farago.
Coq au vin for dinner. Again.
Eh, at least it’s not salmon.
Or pork. Remember (it’s a
Big loaded word, that),
Remember your teen years,
What you did then for free,
What you did for a fee.
The West called to you;
It calls everyone, but it
Called to you specifically:
It told you to come alone,
Dressed in a gi or a sarong,
It told you to come in sandals
Or crocs, it told you to come
In the guise of a raider
Or an assassin. You did not
Question the West as you would now.
You do not question enough now, anyway.
You recall your teen years once more,
Count your money, smile.