I was once a soldier,

Disciplined and honorable.

But nothing prepared anyone for Viet Nam.

Now I stand all night, all day

On Massachusetts Avenue

Growling and hissing unintelligibly

At college students who think of me

As a frightening curiosity

As they make their way to coffee shops

And Urban Outfitters.

They cross the street to avoid me.

And I am trapped behind these eyes,

Seeing through the lenses of a cracked and twisted mind.

I am a used up resource for the War Machine,

And the strangest thing these eighteen-year-olds have ever seen.