Crazy Horse One Eight

The Bradley driver laughed

"I think I just ran over a body."

The military lexicon failed and the man

Stuttered...as he struggled to find a word to abstract

Wounded...kids. 
"They should've known better than to bring 
Kids to a battle zone."

There was a man sitting bleeding, convulsing on the sidewalk,

The good Samaritan pulls up to help,

The Apache opens fire and kills them all.

Except for the two kids.

There were men with guns;

I suppose I'd have a gun,

If there was a war in my neighborhood.

Second amendment rights.

Two men with AK-47s,

Two men with cameras.

One black and white camera on the gunsight.

In Call of Duty, the deaths seem more real.

Trigger-snappy received permission to fire from a

Distracted deskman.

A debate on whether to take the bloody children

Back to base. 
And if they heal them?  What then?  And if they

Return them maimed?

The man on a mustang,

A painted lightning bolt on the cheek,

The stripes on a uniform,

Chopping hoofbeats, buzzing flies droning overhead

A bayonet at least, has to touch you have to let it twist in guts.

A bayonet in the back.

The man who valiantly
Defended his homeland,

A scar on his face,

For love.

A Bradley driven by reservations, conscience…
136 years?

Casual.  Professional.  Boys playing with helicopters, repeating rifles and

Code words, no brash Colonel Custers,

Just a couple reporters and their trusty sidearms,

Lenses at the other end of a crosshairs.
Any male over 18 dead "an enemy combatant"

Civil.  Civilian.  Civilizations.

The Bradley driver laughed

"I think I just ran over a body."

This poem was written in response to the following video.  Contains disturbing real life images of "war."  Viewer discretion is advised
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=5rXPrfnU3G0#at=865

El Alma

En Kirguiz, alma significa manzana,

La gente siempre ha dicho,

Que la comida es la vía

Al corazón.

Y aunque estoy sospechoso de las

Tonterías del amor en la pelí

Que ahora vi,

Me llama a la mente,

Cuantos lagrimas llenan las sopas

De los matrimonios, cuanto piel

Ha sido cortado por el molé,

O quemado por las tortillas.

Cuantos silencios guardan los

Sufrimientos de los mujeres,

Y cuantos venenos ellas saben

Como remedio.

Hay algo sagrado entre dos almas

Que se comían lenguas

Que se encuentran labio a labio

Abrazo en abrazo.
Tomar dos cuerpos y unirlos

Hasta uno.

Hay algo sagrado entre dos almas

Quienes juntos partir pan

Tomar un cuerpo

Y partirlo entre dos.

Hay un comunión cuando nosotros

Cenamos juntos.
Y por un rato

El alma no está sola.



English Translation:

Soul Food

In Kirghiz, soul is the word for apple

As they say, food is the way 

To the heart.

And while I'm suspicious of the 

Foolish film I just watched,
I wonder how many tears fill the soups

Of marriages, how much skin 

Is cut for a portion of mole,
Or burned to make tortillas? 

How many silences guard the sufferings 

Of women.

And how many poisons do they have

As remedy?

There is something sacred between two souls

That chew on tongues, 

They meet lip to lip,
Hug inside hug,
Two bodies uniting

As one.

There is something sacred between two souls

That break bread together

Take one body and split it
Into two.

There is a communion to 

A shared meal.

And for a moment

The soul is not alone.