thanks to a strange chain of events
that started with the death of elvis
all the wars and their warriors
wanted a piece of you
in your living room.
after a time of riots and rides
that ended with smack
of gates into theirs clasps.
all the dates that they throw at you
were somebody else's stab
at your lineage.
thanks to a light
shone in the night
that found an airship in its sights.
in the crossfire
your grandfather cried to your mother.
all the bombs that avoided you
had somebody else's name
drawn on the chalkboard in haste.
it was a clerical mistake.
when you first saw it you were in a stroller,
flailing your arms at the dogs and the bees.
they could have bit you but you looked so happy.
they could have snapped but they showed you mercy.
and come to think of it, i never once heard, "no."
from the day you were called you've been walking through the walls.
shot through a canon, you've landed in a flowerbed.
guarded by invisible friends.
guarded and invisible.
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