Five years old I was when they
hung the enemy soldier in
the basement.He struggled to be free and did it in
his trousers which made me, laugh
'cause I was potty trained.
He looked funny hanging there,
his eyes looked nowhere and
everywhere at once.Even funnier still when they twisted
him around, then he resembled
a puppet on a string.Early next morning, before anyone
was up, I sneaked down to
the basement to twist him around.He wasn't there, but a hook in
the ceiling reminded me that it
hadn't been a dream.