Lotus
Home  Fiction  Non-Fiction  Poetry  Bio  Swimming  Acting  JFK  Music  Friends  

 

Sent Home From School

nobody'll ever know who lee harvey was.
nobody. oh, by the way, oswald,
i mean. you know. him. yeah.
the one.

tell ya who i think he was.
squirrelly little guy, bent over, hurt bad,
black and white tv. gutshot. ruby got 'im.
sure enough, just like he was supposed to,
died in front of everybody. it's just that he got
taken by surprise. no one let him in on
the plan. least jesus knew what was coming.

squads were all over the place, that afternoon. someone
shot a cop down the street. l0th and patten.
screwed up our football game. they scared the
crap out of us. hellhounds, the cops were. in packs,
black hunters,
all up and down jefferson. nothin' like a cop when
a cop's been shot. know what i mean?

tell you what, the gates of hell
were open that day. got the little prick out of
the texas. you believe that shit?

when i saw him die, he looked scared, startled,
really hurt. i bet he looked that way when he was a kid and
his mama smacked him one, because she caught him
in a lie. i kinda felt sorry for him.
kinda.

tell ya one thing, thoug, i mean it too. sad little guy,
i'll never forget him. long as i live. never will. and another
thing. no one ever brings this up. it was nice that day, not the
day lee died, but the day the other guys did, tippet and kennedy.

sky high and blue, sorta warm the afternoon. elms all bare
branched, leaves fallen yellow, brown, red, green and gold.
air full of smoke, footballs and our shouts, as we played
keep away, over on the vacant lot.
sent home from school,

they shot the president.

  

top

My Father's Connection with
The Assasination of JFK

[an error occurred while processing this directive]