War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele


now the rage rains. a summer prairie storm
thunder of clouds, thunder of cloven hooves
thirty million strong, black bison river,
thunder of longing longing longing. rage
that cracks, splits the tall spine of prairie afternoon,
it drops him to his knees unlike any other enemy
he’s too damn good for that, weapons det. too damn good;
wants to go home, home, imagined, unimagined,
through a rage reigning for eight full years
in his beautiful, his beautiful body,
carved of metal, cordite, brokenness, blood,
carved of patrol, the long, long loss, walk,
stalking him every God damn sleepless night
the blue curve of Zopiclone. his woman now.

About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled rage. It was posted here on August 12, 2010.


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