Wednesday, September 30, 2009

recollecting a tour of duty from a swivel chair

i think about you all the time
imagining the dirt beneath my feet
the monsoon mud and midnight muck
the images on the video screen
the general in his office and
the major yelling from his chair

i think about you all the time
imagining the little bird, falling
the bodies burning and blood boiling
the seared vision of bodies in that van
eighteen, packed-in
i find it hard to speak

my mind grows a little weak
each time i see
the little bird burning
and the bodies
all the bodies
on that big, big, big video screen

i am here, and i was there, and i
watched everything from that
damned video screen
never able to help
anyone screamed

i think about you all the time
you're my country now, too and
a part of me just like my daughter
and my education and my

i think about you and i
do, miss you. your ancient cities and
societies and ways of life and love of
god, i think about you

and all the bodies.

1 comment:

  1. This is really beautiful. I made some wonderful friends in Iraq and I wonder all the time how they are and if they are still alive. I cant wait for the day when I can go back to Iraq under different circumstances.

    This poem also reminds me of the UAV office where we provided phone and internet; all the stuff you could see on the video screen from the airplane it kind of mixes up our perception of reality and what we are used to seeing on a television screen.