Contents

Contents

 

Introduction

 

PTSD: A Blood orchid from American-made dystopian mud

War, No. 1                                                                              

On good days—Straight from the reprobate                          

On bad days—Screed, screed: I cut, you bleed                                  

War and Anti-war Poems

                                    A sweep of knives and questions                                           

                                    America, the United States thereof                                        

                                    Blackout                                                                                 

                                    Can a poem be a war?                                                             

                                    Combat debris                                                                        

Corpses, corpses                                                                     

Desensitization using A. Ginsberg’s ‘American Sentence’     

FNG                                                                                       

Going to sleep                                                                        

How much reality can I take?                                                 

I died in Vietnam                                                                    

I sing a song that will get me killed                                        

I want to write love poems                                                     

Just another one of the dead                           

Killing for god and country is murder—always                      

Let’s say … I assassinated him                                                           

Lifer in the war against war                                                    

Lucidity: A prose poem                                                          

Manifesto howled in the surditorium                                      

Not Cherokee enough to read broken jungle                          

Pearls, pierced and dark with bitter gold                                

Political Bukowski                                                                 

Secular stupas of stupidity                                                      

Shrinking senior senator                                                                     

Sitting zazen at Auschwitz-Birkenau                                                              

Somewhere in the A Shau                                                                  

                                    Staying awake                                                                         

                                    Struggles                                                                                 

                                    The unvarnished truth is all the puzzle I want                                   

                                    The weight on my heart                                                          

                                    War, No. 2                                                                              

                                    War, No. 3                                                                              

                                    We built a wall for 58,195                                                      

Enough for now

                                    Zen of No-War                                                                       

                                    Meditating in a combat zone                                                  

Desensitized still?                                                                                           

Enso, No. 1-3                                                                                                             

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