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Victory Parade

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My girlfriend is a miracle.
She’s so young but she’s so beautiful.
So is her new bikini trim,
A waxed-to-neatness center strip of quim.

Now there’s a word you haven’t heard for a while.
It makes me smile.
It makes me think of James Joyce.
You hear his Oirish voice.

It’s spring on Broadway, and in the center strip mall
The trees are all
Excited to be beginning.
My girlfriend’s amazing waxing keeps grinning.

It’s enough to distract
From the other drastic act
Of display today—Osama bin Laden is dead!
One shot to the chest and one to the head,

SEAL Team 6 far away from my bed
Above Broadway—in Abbottabad, Pakistan, instead.
Bullets beyond compare
Flew over there,

Flew through the air
To above and below the beard of hair,
A type of ordnance that exploded
Inside the guy and instantly downloaded

The brains out the nose. Our Vietnam
Is now radical Islam.
I tip my hat and heart to the lovely tiny lampshade
Above her parade.

Source: Poetry (September 2012)

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This poem originally appeared in the September 2012 issue of Poetry magazine

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Victory Parade

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