‘BURY, Depart.’

bury, depart_wp

Feeling the Ypres wind whisper through my back,
Lingo of dead men long silenced, cracked;
to, fro,
hold slow;

The meaning of life descends as the surface to its shoal,
Clad in sweat and cloth, the husk of a killer over soul;
Clutch, smoke,
breathe, go;

So close I could touch him, would they grimace or shy?
Would I be painted an outsider; or am I too afraid to try?
Let be,
soothe the trees;

Embers prematurely spent and love a gulf away,
Given the chance to sleep I wouldn’t dare want to stay.
Shoot, hit,
crawl, spit;

Long doses of peace return in throbbing, warm waves;
The relief is heavier, but shoes like body are weathered, decayed.
Click, load,
Please, no;

Prayers into curses fester at the tip of our tongue;
They all want you in my arms, not this loaded gun.
Rally, shout,
Walk, proud!

The copper whistle lies; a glimpse of false might,
Following the dark river’s cellophane light:
Swoosh, splash,
Crackle, crash;

Breathing soon becomes bleeding as the monsters labor on,
Weariness begets peace; your memory I savor, waver… savor;
Cry, scream,
Come to me–

The poppy shivers in the field, your shoulders arrest my mind,
Your wandering coffee eyes I struggle to remember overtime;
Smile meek,
Move me, seek;

Stalls and humility frustrated me– tore the weak seams,
Mulling over another headache, and parched gray dreams;
Silence, shots,
I’ve never forgot;

Brothers remember and feel these things, I neglect,
Holding another sweetheart in their last dying breaths,
Shrill, recall,
The bickering stall!

The shores erupt in dirt, her white collar begins to fade,
German and Old Contemptibles meet in their home; make it or break!
Roll, kill,
Thunder, still–

A green smoke thaws, tattered corpses in line,
Once boys, now husbands: gifts to widows in time;
Settle, sleep,
‘My Children’ He weeps;

I cannot comprehend the betrayal given,
When I stopped another man’s heart,
like mine– passchen driven,
Bury, depart.

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