The one day of the year

I never know what to say on Anzac Day
when confronted by a medal wearer
or even accosted by a flag bearer
or red poppy seller
or some other drunken fella
telling me I’m yella.

Usually I ask politely
“Was it you or your brother
who died I the last war?”
I can’t understand why
I’m not welcome in the RSL.
Ah, what the hell.

If they all died on the beaches
of old Gallipoli
how come they died in Flanders Fields?
Were they all born again
so that they might die at Tobruk
and on the Kokoda Trail
and on the Thai-Burma Railway
or the Sandakan March?

It’s been a mystery to me
why we send our best and finest
to become causalities of war
what do we do it for?
Wouldn’t be better to
send the B team
you know what I mean
those who stay home
so that they can become politicians
and then send others to fight
in their name.