Water Glass

A clear plastic glass, less than half full,
Reminiscent of a Dutch still life,
Goes unnoticed in the crush of morning mayhem.
It sits on the sidewalk edge
As though left unfinished by a restaurant patron
Who joined the rushing maelstrom, competing
To reach an unseen, but exulted position before the sacred gates close.
 
The glass, unaware of Mercury’s race,
Waited undisturbed in a universe removed
From Monday morning with no life expectancy
And no place to go.

Dying in Vain

Impelled by the IED under his wheels
Chuck rose, defying gravity.
He looked quite peaceful leaving the Jeep
Much of his body remained in one piece.

Oh shit! This is very bad,
Snaking from my upturned Humvee
Moving to him. What a fucking stupid move!
I’ll just go there, put him together.

My life was not erased in that roadside incident.
Chuck’s body parts sent home.
We survivors huddled, scared, mourning the loss.
Now we will not die in vain.

Our job is retaking Ramallah
The natives are not friendly.
No safety here, but we remember Chuck,
And we will not die in vain.

These people are crazy, killing each other
Over a 1,500 year old disagreement.
Saving people who want us dead sucks.
Chuck is our cause.

How long will we fight for Chuck?
Is our belief strong enough to sustain us?
Can we fight forever for a lost comrade?
Who, then, are the crazies?

At least we are not Vietnam vets,
Apologizing for our mission.
We are lauded, eulogized, elegized.
Stay, they will pronounce us brave.

Applauding our efforts beats sharing them.
Everyone wants us gone, everyone but the Decider.
Who extols the painful road to democracy.
Surely Chuck did not die in vain.

Life Goes On.

Phil had just received a call from the police.
Ed had killed himself, leaving a note for Phil.
“Please see to my family”.

When your world falls apart.
It is neither bravery nor cowardice
That work to recover balance.
Touch your desk, and hope it will not prove illusional.
A drink, a drink for Phil... Maybe two.

Life did not go on, thought Phil.
It’s death that goes on;
Poorly timed, very inconvenient.

What have you done to me?
Your family is not my responsibility.
I have more important things to do,
You miserable son-of-a bitch!

First School Day

I most decidedly did not want Mom to walk me.
True, I was terrified. My first school day ever.
Probably be the worst day of my life.
Certainly the other kids would be bigger than my 50 pounds.
Still, to be seen grasping Mom’s hand would be instant death.

Decision time. Just short of the last corner,
Too late to claim a sudden terminal illness,
I released Mom’s hand, and barely holding onto my pee,
Crossed to the school yard.

I don’t really remember the rest of that day,
But I think I sat at my desk for about 2000 hours,
Checking the wall clock every fifteen seconds.