Saul Bennett
The Clap
In the war parading bands often halted on our block.
Women wearing navy capes & what older boys called
cunt caps paraded too but always behind the men.
Old men in uniforms my father said were make-believe
soldiers had big bellies and gave long speeches on a platform
rolled into the gutter. I understood to clap whenever a belly
finally shut up but on hearing no belly had popped a shot
or pulled a grenade pin with his teeth I skipped clapping
though sometimes when all that brass banged it up good
Father kicked my foot & shouted over the drums & trumpets
Come on shorty, clap!
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When the bands began Father said we stood behind
by plenty especially in the Pacific. All we could do was lug
our mothers' fat in Campbell's cans trading it for 4 cents
at the butcher who turned it into God-knows-what
plus collect cartons & old newspapers for scrap.
When someone said you could turn thick metal into
howitzers & tanks we dragged up from some kid's
grandmother's basement a huge old stove. Six of us it took.
When they heard this the bellies went nuts. At the next parade
they shouted every stove kid's name into a megaphone & tooted
Boys come on up you great big heroes and take some big bow!
After that bet your ass I was the last one clapping.