Friday, December 18, 2015

Fitting the Pieces Back Together -John Field

Old friends clean and neat            
And full of responsibilities 
Rust holes in my memories
Each time they ask me 
If I ever killed anybody in ‘Nam,
My tragedies average, they suppose.                                                                
Machine gun bullets cutting down legs, 
Zigzaging up bodies.            

I dream double, 
Fall asleep in San Francisco and wake up 
In Saigon crowded with the ghosts 
Of thieves and lovers—trees, buildings,
Pedestrians, even their shadows burning,
Pouring clouds of smoke in the sky.

That’s why I think about dying young
On summer afternoons when the sun 
Beats down on my skull 
Like a blackjack wound, 
Minefields studded with the stumps
Of amputees instead of trees.

And am not surprised
When October’s blazing colors,
Always a godly sight or almost so,
Tell my hungry eyes no 
Before they ask--followed by 
November nights 
Without an address or an alibi
Lost in a maze of one-way alleys 
No map will ever master,
Knowing I’ll spend the rest of my life 
Hiding behind chalk marks 
On locked doors
Unless I slide my health forms
In the right slot, take my Meds
And stop believing the bad-ass lies
Cocaine whispers in my nose.

Then remember the 58,022 names 
Engraved 
On the Vietnam Veterans Memorial
And try but not very hard
To get on with my life.


                 ***

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