Discoveries of War

War is discovery

The purply orange glow of napalm
Muzzle against flesh, a hand grenade
Nothing left, just blood and brains
No safe ground: enemies everywhere
Boredom dripping inside you like a leaky faucet

It was a sort of acid

Still alive, though just barely, just in the eyes
The damp, fungal scent of an empty body bag
A necklace of human tongues
Dangerous and ready for the kill
There were slivers of bone, and the blood came in quick spurts
You can't tell where you are, or why you're there
You take a feeble swipe at the dark and think, Christ, what's the point?
"Well, that's Nam… Garden of Evil"

But the war wasn't all that way.

A powerful, implacable beauty
War is adventure
The immense pleasure of aliveness
You want justice and courtesy, things you never knew you wanted
A tree full of moss and vines and white blossoms
Giggling and goofing
Grinning, filthy but alive
You feel wonder and awe at the setting of the sun
A kind of godliness
And you are filled with a hard, aching love
For how the world could be and always should be.