Nightcap

I asked my dad to tell me about Vietnam
from the books I remember trees
always the trees with me
me and trees

He remembers children
dead ones
picking them up
their heads falling apart
bodies ripped in two, three, too many pieces to ever have a real funeral for
he doesn't remember Vietnam
he washes those memories with Schlitz malt liquor and mary jane, rum, vodka, whatever
always the washing with him
still

He doesn't remember Vietnam
then what are the tears for?
those
the ones you're hiding
tears are impossible to hide
I am hiding my humanity