dean was not the monk who went up in flames in saigon

he was six-two, lean, handsome, outgoing
she was six, lithe and both popular
theirs was a storybook romance
and the envy of everyone in high school
then one day horsing around
he fell off the tree and severed his spine
denial, anger, agony, pain and
long periods of therapy and treatment
followed, but acceptance eluded him

he moved into his own apartment
and slowly re-learned to live in his prison
watched movies and listened to music
all day long and even chatted on yahoo
laboriously tapping out alphabets
---he had plenty of time on hand
but the doctors and therapists
could not teach him to live within his body

his fondness of movies wore off and
he developed an interest in current affairs
learned of a world beyond his window
that would never be his and the more
he learned the more agitated he became
of politicians and generals and
kings and emirs and their imbecility
how could they live in halo isolation
and care not for the teeming hungry
and the billions under privileged
then one day.........

***

at the funeral parlour viewing
he had a smile playing on his face
almost angel-like and at peace
his mother came over and said
'my dean is free now'

for dean c and thich quang duc (1897-1963)