In the world of flesh
Killing another
Is victory
In the world of spirit
Killing another
Is killing yourself
My father found
This moment
Rifling the corpse
Of another
He had killed
He found a pocket watch
In a silver case
To keep it safe
Yet here it was—
On a dead boy
A farmer in a photograph
Like my father
Who knew why
These boys were killing
And not cutting wheat?
Who knew why?
The spirit
The soul
Does not know why
He looked at the uniforms
He looked at the wounds
He looked at the nice watch
Exactly
Like me
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
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1 comment:
wow
great poem -- u wrote it?
says so much so concisely
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