Sunday, September 14, 2014

War is Demented--War Poem

War is demented
--
A nature hike, they thought, not even war
Giggling, calling each other yellow mothers
tiny white blossoms, under the canopy
Except for the laughter, things were quiet
There was a noise
Terror and violence
An intense, out-of-the skin awareness of your living self
When he died, it was almost beautiful
Must’ve been the detonator
Playing catch with smoke grenades
Lemon Tree
--
She left for days, weeks at a time
You just don’t know, she said
Throat was a necklace of human tongues
On a post, the decayed head of a leopard
She was barefoot
She wore her pink sweater and white blouse
A simple cotton skirt
She’s already gone
--
Hit him hard
His nose made a sharp snapping sound
The fight was vicious
Had him hearing noises in the dark
Imagining a grenade rolling into his foxhole
Borrowed a pistol
Yelled the mans name
Held it at the grip
And broke his own nose
Asked if everything was square between them
The man was crazy

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