It’s so sad
that you know

so little
about 

your family.
Your brother

served
in Viet Nam.

Yes of no?
You remember

the uniform.
You remember

the airport.
How old

were you?
You remember

the story
about the angel

who detained
him

from 
his flight,

which crashed,
saving his life.

Still, he died
way too early.

Why?
Your other

brother.
Dead from overdose.

One of many.
You remember

the gun,
waving,

an erratic
cartoon balloon,

empty of speech.
Still, another

brother.
Dead.

What 
do you

remember?
Nothing.