Kids all over Hell

One year ago today I launched my Substack, so in honor of that anniversary, I thought I’d republish the piece that started it all, a poem I wrote last year called “Kids all over Hell.”

Well, it’s a little inaccurate to say “I” wrote it. Actually, my dad spoke it and I merely transcribed it. I am sure Dad would never consider himself a poet, but I often hear poetry in his speech, and this piece is a prime example of that.

But first, a bit of good news. Last summer, I submitted two poems and one short essay to the local Veteran’s Creative Arts Competition. In September, I was notified that each piece I entered received a top-3 status in its respective category, and would therefore be sent on to the national competition. Then, this week I received an email congratulating me on a first place award for one of my poems, and an invitation to attend the National Veterans Creative Arts Festival in Columbia, South Carolina! With all the terrible news coming from our city this week, it was a nice surprise, and helped me focus on something positive for a little while.

Thank you for joining me on this Substack journey over the past year.

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Kids all over Hell

So anyway, we drove over

to that main drag there

and there’s a bank

and well everything looks closed

and where in the Sam hell?

We’re in the middle of nowhere.

We walk past the VFW

I thought we were goin to the VFW

and we get to some little shop,

like an individual

an individual individualized

little shop

—a bakery!—

Well, we still don’t know

what the hell’s goin on.

We walk into that shop and

BOOM!

The lights turn on

and there’s all kindsa people,

must’a been twenty,

twenty-five people there,

your sister’s friends,

Adam called all of ‘em.

And kids all over Hell,

and there was a smorgasbord.