you know I was there when your father died the VC death and you know I left before your arrival in this Alexandria salon where you cut my hair you tell me of your latest conversations with Buddha long letters…
That year I spent in Tarin Kowt
in the heart of the Taliban
“Shadow Governors” from the Popalzai tribe
their black robes, henna beards and body odor
We venture into the city’s heart
for a shura that would never be
Where the Pines Grow
If bayonets dismantle flesh
O, what’s the point in ranks?
The dead watch hell through
heaven`s mesh in resurrected tanks.
O, what’s behind this Buddha`s door?
Is peace awash with mines?
We’ll die like silk to …
Based on a letter written in July 1863 by Wilbur Fisk of the Vermont Brigade
With Wilbur, scouting in the wood
When Gettysburg was two weeks through;
A cabin in a clearing stood,
We crept up for a closer view.…
And the clouds are refusing
to stay steady, they keep
getting pulled like a string
off the precipice of the page.
Shots of words and phrases
like these young men’s fears
falling out after
an anchor’s rasp.
Inarticulate fingers and …
You get to the picture of the baby, hurting. He’s inconsolable, he’s existing straight through the worst of it the way kiddos do.
Day Of Awe Let Them Eat Cake Saint Elsewhere Kickstart At-One-Ment
Pre-dawn Yom Kippur before most coffee shops are open, tanked up
on Starbucks’ organic pouch of plums plus a primo cup of caffeine
but not mingling much among …
Accept him afterwards,
wedged upright on a sofa,
tunneling the sunset:
nights aren’t night enough.
Why this is so you will
not fully understand;
he can’t explain himself:
Look how hot, bleeding
turmoil’s been transfused
by cooler, kinder stuff
“You sad sacks will become rocks!”
a Drill Instructor, Basic Training
Does a stone cry?
Do tears of dust
mar this white eye?
And does stone seek
some vain excuse
to prove abrasion’s
Twin Bristol engines drumming
thrumming just out of synch
rumbling through the ink black sky
A wounded Beaufighter flying home
cocoon of the returning crew
pilot and gunner stare into the murk
Do they see Death staring back?
but the …