dated 02/08/09
i am a homeless man
sitting in the sands of anbar
Continuing my unarmed jihad,
my soul unharmed by the shrapnel
from the IED that ruptured me.
my slowly pumping heart:
physically torn by what the bomb borne,
emotionally sedated by what the collation desecrated.
the buddha’s tree is near
but i have yet to reach nirvana
a roadside bomb was left unplugged
and it smelled like unclean spirit
of the teen soldiers firing AKs in the marketplace,
their amazing race to find a spring flower in bloom.
the sun glaces off the sand,
the wind swirls
high with hazel haze. the purple is diffused,
excused as it kissed the sky with a silent war cry.
I submitted my alibi on time,
but was guilty before the trial.