Hawk, Kenneth P. Gurney

I thought the war was open to anyone.

It was a closed affair.

I was not very good at war

and wanted to practice,

but the membership fees

were more than I could afford.

I went home and practiced

pouting for a little while

then kicked a ball

around the yard

pretending it was the enemy

and we were at war.

I broke a window.

A cloud rushed inside my house

and stole all my war discussions

that I posted by the fireplace

then the cloud escaped up the flue

and back into the sky: 

blackened, thunderous.

When I lit the fire that night

to heat up a topic

there was no war left to talk about

so I thought maybe I could forge

a new war against industrial polluters

and enlist the environmentalists.

I knew no environmentalists

except for Ellie,

who was an armchair environmentalist,

but her conversation centered around birds 

and their bright plumage

and intricate mating displays. 

So I retreated to the kitchen

and prepared hot coco

for the two of us.