“(Here) the barrel is uncovered. Soldiers in Iraq use standard issue covers or condoms to keep sand and dirt out of the weapon.”
- Defense used to question the authenticity of photos taken at Abu Ghraib.
In his mouth, the soldier mixes pain
and memory
expecting honor, now a broken tooth:
kept breathing, throbbing
through guns. Condoms keep dust
out of barrels, keep
forever in the “flesh of flesh” bestowed
to binge, purge, create.
Failure forces the soldier to lean on men
in darkness, neither faces
seen to remember nor to accuse.
Clutch his steadfast steel,
forget casings, cuss words keep
him warmer
than embraces. Trust the only light
the soldier sees is of the stars.
and desire layers of fight to fall, crumble,
twist away. Reveal instincts
to have war-torn him beyond tongue-
tied around prayers.
Combat, a storm never strong enough
to douse his drought
and, like everyone: his violence
is the only justified violence.
Those lands the soldier has said to conquer
with earth against
his shield, broken armor, and enemies
fully aware are now kept away
from loss by beating
blind-clad unsuspectings.
Is it still prey
if the soldier’s strength is not known
until they are defeated
and pinned beyond
their surrender?
Elisabeth von Uhl graduated in May 2005 with an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. She now teaches composition at Fordham University in New York City. Her work has been published in Lumina, The Broome Review, Moria, and The Cortland Review. Also, her chapbook, Ocean Sea, is published by Finishing Line Press.
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