Thursday, May 19, 2016

Matthew Borczon- Three Poems


cats

I hate the
cats that
live in
my house
they think
they are
not mine
but rather
that I belong
to them

the big male
bites me
when he
wants fed
and scratches
purrs and humps
on my wife
right in front
of me
as if to show
me who
is in charge

I think
it is because
Dana got them
for the kids
while I
was in
Afghanistan
so they think
they came
before me
and are first
in the
pecking order
so I should
cower in
the corner
eat last
and run when
they hiss

I should
just beat
the shit
out of them
and take
my place
as alpha
only I
don't hit
animals I
am sure
of this
and after
all I saw
and did
in the war
I don't want
to hurt
anything
or anybody
ever again

so I
guess
the man
of the house
is another
thing
I lost
in the desert
5 years ago


end date

I’d sit
outside in
112 degree
heat too
tired to
clean the
blood off
my boots
no shade
no music
no plans
but to 
wait
until the
next shift
and start
it all again
but at
least in
2010 I
had an
end date
a specific
number
of days
until I
would leave
Afghanistan

it was
a rope
to hold
on to a
rosary to
pray
a pot
to piss
in a
pot to
watch until
eventual
boil

this month
I’ve been
back for
5 years
and what
I wouldn’t
give to
have a
day in
sight when
I could
believe
this war
was gonna
end and
I would
finally get
to go
home.


night terror 20

tonight
I held
a British
machine gun
in my
dream and
I am outside
and my
uniform feels
new and not
stiff from
sweat and
bleach as
I march
with a
detail of
soldiers off
the base
all the
while I
am wishing
I had
tried harder
back at
fort Jackson
shot with
my eyes
open learned
coordinates
memorized a
9 line
to call
a helicopter
something
anything I
could have
used back
then in
Helmand
or now
in this
nightmare
where I
will die
again
tonight
taking
everyone
with me.


Matthew Borczon's collection a Clock of Human bones is available through the yellow chair review. He has published widely in the small press. He works as a nurse and Navy sailor in Erie pa.
 
 

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