Wednesday, June 01, 2011

Last thoughts after Memorial Day...

Pace my friend Linda, I believe that the anti-war poem is a relatively recent addition to the thread of human song.

But it may well be the most sorrowful, deepest, the most grave song we will ever sing."So I Was a Coffin"

by Gerardo Mena

—For Corporal Kyle Powell, died in my arms, 04 November 2006

They said you are a spear. So I was a spear.

I walked around Iraq upright and tall, but the wind blew and I began to lean. I leaned into a man, who leaned into a child, who leaned into a city. I walked back to them and neatly presented a city of bodies packaged in rows. They said no. You are a bad spear.

They said you are a flag. So I was a flag.

I climbed to the highest building, in the city that had no bodies, and I smiled and waved as hard as I could. I waved too hard and I caught fire and I burned down the city, but it had no bodies. They said no. You are a bad flag.

They said you are a bandage. So I was a bandage.

I jumped on Kyle's chest and wrapped my lace arms together around his torso and pressed my head to his ribcage and listened to his heartbeat. Then I was full, so I let go and wrung myself out.

And I jumped on Kyle's chest and wrapped my lace arms together around his torso and pressed my head to his ribcage and listened to his heartbeat. Then I was full, so I let go and wrung myself out.

And I jumped on Kyle's chest and wrapped my lace arms together around his torso and pressed my head to his ribcage but there was no heartbeat. They said no. You are a bad bandage.

They said you are a coffin. So I was.

I found a man. They said he died bravely, or he will. I encompassed him in my finished wood, and I shut my lid around us. As they lowered us into the ground he made no sound because he had no eyes and could not cry. As I buried us in dirt we held our breaths together and they said, yes. You are a good coffin.

(h/t to the Rude One for this beautiful, grievous poem)

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