Khafji

A very interesting piece I wrote for a contest. Prompt was paper bag.

You need groceries;
I need a vessel to
hold my world -- my
wheelchair got stolen
and the VFW thinks that
I don't matter, even though I lost
that leg for someone who matters [1991].
So I'll just sit here, and
you can sneer at me and behold
all my worldly possessions in
a paper bag.

Puppet show.
Lunchtime.
Hyperventilation.
Motion sickness.
One brown paper remedy.
But for wounded mind/body?