one two three four

we used

to go down to the mall

and protest the war, chanting

hell no

we won't go, or

one two three four we don't

want your fucking war,

and other little ditties

like that.

on the fourth of July

one year,

Bob Hope was there

entertaining

the  crowd.

we kept it up with our

loud teenage

voices

not wanting to, 

when we came of age,

go fight

in some jungle

for something we didn't

want or understand.

our screams and yelling

interfered with Bob's

dead pan lines,

the dancing girls,

the Mormon Tabernacle

Choirs mind

numbing songs.

then the tear gas flew.

and we ran.

the war continued

for another five years.

at least

another twenty thousand

died.