THIS DEPLOYMENT

I
most are kids
can’t grow a mustache
where they’re going, bullets won’t care
jumpy ghosts who know nothing about conflict
except what a fist feels like after a school dance argument

ready to be heroes
boots, BDUs & guns
leaving gym bleachers like a slow parade
watch the families say good-bye with tearful
fuck yous & hearts spilling on the polished wood floor


II
passing on barely audible steps
like long-standing bets with their fathers
dead ten years now
buckets of ash in their chests smothering
these hawk-eyes for the not-quite-right
quick-study marksmen
knowing only diplomatic decay
kevlar, tightly laced boots & a full magazine
patrol for their lives
pray in half empty canteens
that the hand of god finds its rest here


III
they want to write home
everything’s OK no worries miss you
small home-front hope
really only that much to offer

it registers in their periphery
small muzzle flash out of a tragic panorama
just a puff of smoke-spark click pop
before lying down mute heroes


IV
they fall into formation
draped in proud uniformity
red white & blue promised land
as far as the tarmac can see
listen as the echoes
snap to attention
listen as the cadence is called
their march continuing on

Mon, Mar 31, 2008  Permanent link