Notes to Generation Fortunate Son

Spawned from a memory of Eli’s 4runner.

Notes to Generation Fortunate Son 

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

Fuzzy flags carried off planes

no one needs to ask about. 

Spare my eyes the sight

society says to itself. 

Protest read aloud the writing on the wall, 

a cousin, a brother, a father ties a nation 

in a knot no one is sure they should be in. 

Growing pains diagnosed from the comfort 

of their sacrifice, 40 years later teenagers 

returning from a high school lunch at Chipotle 

hang out car windows, hands managing the recoil 

of machine guns mounted to the chopper they’re 

clipped to, because Creedence is playing on max,

Lieutenant Dan taught us to walk again. 

Covered by the freedom those died providing

colors fade with the fog of endless war.

Not that anyone notice when times grew slack,

media removed vulnerable to reality’s attack.  

All things looking of You

All things looking of You

By Tyler Mobley 

  

Ripples trail a seaward vessel

spreading curves, a rhythm we

rolled once or twice. 

Dewy garden mornings find web woven 

portraits by Picasso legged spiders, 

“a fly for the effort.” 

Birds gather in honor,

Roman starlings perform under twilight,

fluttering human forms sing songs

of dedication, they knew 

you always listened. 

A name glimpsed in bubble

breathes held on a tub floor,

before bursting nevermore. 

A lasting adieu when

all things looking of you.