Suppose They Gave A War And I Went?

April 16, 2007 at 12:16 am · Filed under poem, social, war

The set-up (1):
Son, Daughter, you must believe that you are proof against those
Seeking to destroy you.
Your fathers are proud, and your mothers no more scared
Than they should be.

The set-up (2):
Your sacrifice is necessary even if it is
Your all.
Our lies are no greater than those told
By your parents.

The preparation (1):
Take this holiness and eat for this
Is your Body.
Take this holiness and drink for this
Is your Blood.

The preparation (2):
One-fifty-one and little white pills and it feels like
You can’t remember.
The future just a history not yet real
But it will be.

The preparation (3):
I will soothe you with my body for it may
Be your last.
My arms are wide open so come to me
And breathe the peace of Venus.

The learning:
Balsa, intrepid shield against an avalanche
Of ton boulders.
Squint your eyes against the nightly vision
Of torn bodies.

Getting there:
Slopes of pure white, vast, immense,
I adore you, goodbye.
Spots of green and brown on endless blue,
I love you, goodbye.

Being there (1):
Soft eyes of Catholic plea,
How can I help?
Just don’t ask me to save a choking child since
I don’t know the trick.

Being there (2):
Doe eyed girl of little past, skin like
Fresh chocolate milk.
It isn’t necessary, your ardor, unless
You really want to.

Being there (3):
Discovery of the other side, mine,  and what it means
Frees me forever.
Your sweat smells different but I love it just the same so thank you
Child of Mars.

Being there (4):
Brilliance with no peer and loving too, the thought of lunch
Makes you hungry.
You’ll catch up you say but you never do,
So why did you off yourself?

The Choice:
Want to go fly? It’s so cool at a click
Straight up.
No man, way too tired, I’m racking it so now I’m not but they
Are all dead.

R&R in the Morning:
Dress for the paddy and draw a .45 because you may need
To shoot someone.
It’s easy to find, no contest at all, just
Head for the smoke.

The witness – son:
Left thigh split open like a cheap
Pork hot dog.
Carnal howl forever frozen in
Timeless agony.

The witness – daughter:
One soft and pink, the other turgid and black
Your two breasts wink.
Impossible baby will suckle them for milk
That cannot flow.

The witness – Milo:
Your eyes are wide man, and your feelings
Stink of vomit.
Didn’t think it possible, did you, rich kid from the barrio
Of High Aspen?

The witness – me:
Falling through the vault of Heaven feeling what
I can’t imagine.
The screaming was just metal burning for
You were already gone.

The witness – God:
They are of me, and I of them, and that is everything but
They cannot see it.
I want to believe in them but
They wear me out.

Return:
I protected you – no not from them, those little farmers, but
From your masters.
The one domino that did fall hit me on the head and
Nothing will ever be the same.

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