Thursday, May 12, 2011

FACE OF IRAQ by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Somewhere out in the dark
spiked sand-traps waiting

fingers made of frayed metal
ready to grab under the ground
face of Iraq

wanting to tear our flesh and snap bones

our truckloads rumbling into a town of huts
impossible to glide over their bulging veins

bomb blast
jerks the underworld
into our rubber tires

careening off the dirt road
we check our boots and balls

filing out into the hollow blackness
we take position
pointing weapons at whatever moves

but nothing moves in the now stillness
not even the breath of their buried mouths

we are civilized and chew gum
into the morning glare
our sunglasses peering across the gap of worlds

we spit and create storms
choking them with our dust.

Published in Deuce Coupe- November 2009

1 comment:

  1. Hey Stephen, thanks for telling me about how to Blog. I'll keep at it slowly until I understand it. Really like your poetry and we think you are a great person with many interests. Thanks again, Keith