Joe’s Gizmo by Charlie Brice

Joe’s Gizmo

Joe had a new gizmo,

something his dad made—

a handle on one side,

a handle on the other,

in between kite string strewn

like a hand-held loom,

something Gandhi might have used

to weave loin cloth, but

we didn’t know about Gandhi,

his efforts to free his country

from British rule, create peace,

or that he forgave his assassin

with his last breath.

We were in Lions Park in 1960—

ten years old under a massively

blue Cheyenne sky.

Joe’s gizmo propelled our kite

so high as to befuddle hope with envy.

Our cheers echoed the sonorous promise,

the crisp vocal cadence, of our new

presidential candidate, John Kennedy.

With volitant optimism we attached

more string to Joe’s gizmo. Our dreams

of flight at Icarus height were quickly dashed

by a loosened string that snapped. Our kite

disappeared into a cobalt abyss only to

descend, battered and torn, three years later

on the roof of a redbrick building in Dallas.

Charles W. Brice is a retired psychoanalyst and is the author of Flashcuts Out of Chaos (2016),Mnemosyne’s Hand(2018), and An Accident of Blood (forthcoming), all from WordTech Editions. His poetry has been nominated for the Best of Net anthology and twice for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in The Atlanta Review, The Main Street Rag, Chiron Review, Fifth Wednesday Journal, The Sunlight Press, The Paterson Literary Review, Muddy River Poetry Review and elsewhere.