We had a dentist speak <br />at the anti-war rally <br />that we organized <br />in the summer of 1968, <br /> <br />we young men <br />home from college, <br />trying to legitimize ourselves <br />in the eyes of our parents <br />even as we turned activist. <br /> <br />We held a car wash <br />to raise funds. <br />When I wrote articles <br />about the war, I quoted <br /><i>businessmen</i>, as though <br />they were the only real gauge <br />of decent humanity. <br /> <br />I grew my hair a little, <br />and for a few months once <br />had a stubble beard, <br />until my cousin spat <br />venom at me <br />at the hospital <br />as we were waiting <br />for Grandpa to die, <br />shouting with hate-filled eyes, <br />'You look like a fairy! ' <br /> <br />Mother said one day <br />that summer, <br />'I don't care what you do, <br />as long as you don't <br />look like what you are! ' <br />and I'm still wondering <br />what she meant.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/22-when-the-dentist-spoke-at-the-anti-war-rally/
