April ninth four score and eleven years ago

How fast the years did clip and leap away,
till your Earth orbitz count ninety decades
+ uno journeys orbited around mister sun
encompassing metaphorical magnum opus
figuratively paginated bound compendium,
whereby chronology Boyce Brandon Harris
also known as papa san 'pon being drafted
his six foot 2 inch tiptop chiseled physique
(musculoskeletal frame shrunk) dada fought
the good fight one among many raw recruits
stationed south 38th parallel serving admins
Harry Truman, & Dwight David Eisenhower
bolstering strongman Syngman Rhee against
Kim Il-sung during 6/25, 1950 – 7/27, 1953
war (actually stalemate) whereby former and
latter controlled South and North Korean as
separate countries - father (soldier of fortune
(he art not yet in heaven, whatever Unitarian
equivalent would be) hoping to live at least
until Tuesday, November 3, 2020 to vote for
fightin Joe Biden, meanwhile Zayda to his 5
grandkids keeps low profile at Normandy
Farm Estates upscale retirement community
whose delicate health (i.e. congestive heart
failure) could (does) pose hardship visa vis
his immune system susceptible to microbes
(particularly strains) virile which could spell
death of beloved nonagenarian, whose dim
eyes sees approaching exit (stage door left)
out webbed wide world of living survivors.
Mayor presence be regaled as presents
courtesy second rate poetaster
born (only heir - hiss supple) while ye still
tread, albeit ably helped along with cane.
H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y
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Comments
Good work!
What I liked most about the poem was your incorporation of specific names, places and dates. It had a political vibe to it and abstract in many areas. I liked the format. You have a unique writing style that I have noticed in much of your poetry.
Favorite part:
Could you give me more back round on this particular poem? Thank you.