Withdrawal From Damascus

By Thomas Trull

21st Century


You are too tense, old blind soldier
Snapping at children & dogs
Like a desert snake.
You steady two cocked fingers
Aimed to chastise,
Fingers that could cradle a calming
Cigarette
Had you not choked them from
The axis of allies.

***

Your forces, in their fatigues,
Are crumbling at the borders.
What use are they now,
Now that you eschew green little clouds
Now that you wander a secret garden of elephants
Now mouth has birthed too many words to tell them apart?
A campaign of pruning
A history replaced.
The man will die among his reserves
Here at home.

***

At Damascus house, we watch the hero trip acid.
His girl, nineteen, blonde, & unfinished,
Cannot escape his trajectory path.
Her disappointment occurs
Not in the present,
But in essence.
She will not survive the year.

***

What is it that we admire in the young?
To admit his youth & nothing but his youth
So hell meets God,
The endless energy to desecrate the horde culturalists,
An aspirin to eat the stomach of America,
The superhuman means to abuse & to be abused
Night stacked upon night.
Brave youth? No. The naïve hand shakes danger.
We miss the proximity w/death,
We who sold our energies to time
For death to gild our bones.

DayPoems Poem No. 2424
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2424.html">Withdrawal From Damascus by Thomas Trull</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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