Poem: Old photo

pouty boy with a big gun
—the “boy” was then 47—
do you know what that’s for?

Can you hunt?
—not just in Whole Foods—
Can you defend?
—not just your ego—
Do you disavow that image?
—or secretly delight in it—
toy soldiers in your mind

I’ll tell you a secret:
that old photo
is the only thing
propping up my respect

if only your words
were as true
as your aim