First Teaching Job A Real Hell Hole Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

no hope
hadda stick it out
or off to the
jungles of Nam
greeted each day with
“Not you again Bernstein“
thought they’d run me off
like they did the three
souls who vanished
in a hail of paper clips
and thumb tacks
but my buddy
Michael F
told me tales—
once head held high
proved his courage
in the war
a year later
changed
now a white faced invalid
dwelling in a wheelchair
no feeling
below the neck
when once
every Brooklyn girl
he caressed
nibbled a bit of Paradise.