Dim room
Lit only by a flickering television
I droop on the couch
School hoodie and sweats hang on my body
Spring
Roommates asleep and snoring
Midnight break
Late evening drive-through snack
Homework due in the morning
Eyelids getting heavy as bricks
The oil bleeds through the paper bag making it transparent
Greasy cheeseburger dripping with mustard
Sits untouched and pristine for my hunger
Eyes bloodshot but straining to watch
Television a collage of rubble and ruins
One tank rumbles through, flying a solo American flag
Angered mobs covered in sweat, blood and filth surround it
Solidiers, Americans, men, husbands, brothers, sons, boys
I am 20
Watching for Brian or Jason
Textbooks open and unused at the desk
The day’s dead scroll by
Slow and steady like a funeral procession
18, 19, 18, 23, 19, 20, 20, 23, 20
Hands fumble for the sandwich
First bite of the burger
Mouth full, swallow, gag
This burger tastes like sand
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment