matt borczon, three poems

what i learned in Afghanistan

That
war
is
a
goldfish
that
will
keep
eating
until
it’s
dead
and
floating
at
the
top
of
it’s
bowl

when

I first
got back
from the
War I
would get
distracted
while driving
I’d run
red lights
into screaming
horns and
racing cars
I told
my wife
I think
I am
trying to
kill the
ghosts of
all the
soldiers
that followed
me home

but I
told my
VA therapist

I think

they are
trying to
kill me.

want

I really
want to
write about
ice blue
stars on
cloudless nights
about the
ancient ruins
we saw
in Mexico
about the
happy laugh
of my
youngest daughter
I mean
I sit
in the
sun some
days I
hear the
music of
the city
night watch
the ghost
dance of
middle aged
hustlers in
local bars
I have
a life
I try
to matter
I find
joy in
strange places
like the
next guy
it’s just
that after
all these
years I
still wear
Afghanistan
like a
Kevlar vest
and the
ghosts of
dead soldiers
still burst
into flames

nightly

setting fire

to all
my dreams.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s