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a poem by et cetera

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L/Cpl Jefferson, 19, near Lashkar Gar -
by et cetera

In the field you’re more sure of self, thinking that pre-paunch webbing lays down roadblocks and signposts – piss off – til Afghan snap and crackle find their way past bits of rat pack into bony lung, soft juices. Helmet and camoed eyes above you now, and the yelling yellows into dust. Holding your sides in like a thin-veined caul, you suddenly notice a wet nose; his hands rushed by your unsourceable seeping. by Patrick McFarlane
Notes:
the theme of the beautiful and the damned
Posted: 6th May 2010
Words: 66
Viewed: 16 times
Comments: 0
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