Peter Lewis Holmes Poet Free verse

On the Death of a President

and the TV on the wall(I was in hospital)
shouted out in glorious black and white
guess who's dead?...his head was blown 
apart in a big Lincoln car (no pun intended)

and his glamorous wife in twin set and 
gorgeous hat, lay across the butcher's table,
shocked and distressed,or something like that

and the chosen ones (fellow adulterers) wheeled
in his body with hope and his blood on their cuffs
and a blonde voice was heard saying,
"happy birthday Mr President..I'm dead too"

and the doctor looked inside his skull and saw 
a thousand lovers,Vietnam and two errant brothers
looking like they might need a guide because of the 
death of a brother, an icon, a man

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