At least three times a day I wish I could send him a text message, a terrible song lyric by Skee-Lo or some other crappy R&B singer from the 90s...
Iraq feels further away than it ever has before. The last time he was there, I never had a cell phone, so I couldn't just fire off a text and wait for a laugh. I had to write letters and wait a month for a phone call.
I wrote this poem because I was disillusioned the night before he left from his last visit:
Shooting
This horror floated ashore from the sea of memory,
a corpse that looked too familiar to ignore
too much like myself.
It was only drunk talk on a Saturday night
guys shooting pool
shooting the breeze.
(But my own brother--
builder of snowbank forts
screamer of obscenities
bestower of bruises
the same man who stood up for me--
crossed a line.
"There is nothing"
he says
"like pulling the trigger and watching the guy fall down.")
shooting my image of my only brother.
He is never coming back.
---------------
My image of him was blown. Completely. And yet, all I can think about is how much I'd like him to sing "I Wish." I wish I were a little bit taller; I wish I was a baller. I wish I had a girl who looked good I would call her. I wish I had a rabbit in a hat and a bat....
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7 comments:
this reminds me of when my older Brother was in Viet Nam back in '69-'70. The whole family wrote a letter EVERY day and we were worried sick about him. He didn't come back the same. He was different and he never talks about it either. I pray for your Brother's safety and all the guys and gals over there.
Bring them back home NOW!
Thanks for your support, Stan. I appreciate that!
This poem really tugs at the heart of a female who has been involved with armed forces for the past 34 years and has lived and lost through a Bush War. Just keep believing for I promise you, he is still there, just very well hidden... in self-defence.
justin, there is so much that i want to write to you that i don't even know where to begin.
i'll think about it and come back.
(you have an exquisite way of telling a story, by the way.)
kelly
Thank you both for the encouragement and kind words.
That was one powerful poem. I hope that, when it's all over, your brother can find his way back to you in every sense of the words.
Thanks, Argent. Me, too!
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