Osama
by Ted L Glines

Osama bin Laden
sliding through the grass,
Osama bin Laden with
an eagle up his ass

it's a wonder
as much as we have fought
that all our gathered nations
could tolerate the thought
that this lowly puny man
this sick depraved man
could really stay alive
in spite of how we strive
(they say)
to kill him
to still him
to make him go away

but
Osama bin Laden
wears a burkha today
and slides through the village
with hips that swing and sway
and Arab men are liking him
stroking him
poking him
in their manly Arab way

Osama bin Laden
sliding through the grass,
Osama bin Laden with
an eagle up his ass

Osio
by Ted L Glines

Osio, old woman of my People,
our ages live long in your eyes.
We've survived so many hard battles
we've said far too many "goodbyes."

In your face are the valleys we came from,
where we hunted and loved and fought,
where the rain was a gift from Katsinas
and we blessed every boon that we got.

The white in your hair is the snow
the streams where we frolicked and fished,
where the forests and plains were our friends,
who provided all life that we wished.

Osio, old woman of my People,
your beauty and pride is our goal.
In this life of greed and contention,
smile, for we dance in your soul.

One Medal
by Ted L Glines

Grizzled old man in rags
sits against the storefront
sun-warmed wall
scuffed shoes with holes
propped before him
dirty plaid coat
(with one medal)
pulled close around him
street wind chills
eyes tracking walkers
they avert their eyes
not seeing him
smelling car exhaust
spilled coffee
eau de sidewalk
he closes his eyes
inside his head
screams
stuttering machine guns
blazing rifle fire
village huts blown to pieces
fire all around
women children
blood explosions
twitching begging
roasting flesh
killing mercy shot
walk on
vision passes trembling
he wipes his eyes
no one must see
eyes tracking walkers
who avert their eyes
he is never seen
by walkers
who stayed at home
sent him to kill and kill
and kill some more
and have these visions
for them
dirty plaid coat
(with one medal)
symbol of their guilt
dirty plaid coat
pulled close
against the cold

Author's Notes: During  a college  research project, I found myself sharing the street  life with many homeless  people in SoCal. Many of them were Vietnam  veterans who had dropped out after  the war, and this poem is a  moment in the life of one such man.