Tremens of War

One of my older brothers served as a Marine in Vietnam in 1966-67 and was involved in some of the worst engagements of those campaigns.  The following piece reflects on my experience of him and also of my own conflicted thoughts.

FOXHOLE

Statuary in silence.

Transposed in my bones

frosty snacks of death

nerves digest

sitting swollen in

Non-movement.

All good pushed

and better gone.

Feces of Hubris about.

Fragments.

Understandable

pale shock

of cold insides sweating...

steady...

resisting the lure

of the killing place-

the foxholes of my heart

where cares go

so body survives.

Artillery,

then quiet...

brooding, moody

melancholy...

strange malaise in disbelief

of this solitude, still..

Waiting, watching,

wishing-

hoping.

Statues of the still living

shoot morbid ignorance

of the dead.

War is a drug.

Advance, withdraw

or die.

Statuary in silence.

Shakes.