I Was A Pre-Teen McCarthyist

At Harold Edward’s Elementary
You pay respect to our God, our flag, our military
In grade 3 I had a written composition
About the global threat of communism
And I was the luckiest eight-year-old McCarthyist of 1979
I spent spring break on the flight line
Of a base in the Carolinas
The U.S. version of my dad had signed us
Signed us in, signed us in
And twelve years later, the Gatling I’d touched
Was strapped to the nose of a U.S. A-10
Separated flesh from bone
And honed its skills on lesser humans
And thus confirmed the suspicions earned
In the 7 years preceding
About the lies I was told and, truth be known
I’m probably better off believing
They said I’m better off believing
Somehow better off believing
But how could they do this to me?
Born head first and brought up ankle deep
And maybe you’re a lot like me
Identified for fourteen years without a choice
Terrified the morning you woke up and realized
That if and when you jump ship
You either swim for shore or drown
Don’t let the fuckers drag you down