Thirteen Things My Military Students Tell Me That They Can't Tell Their Parents
- My composition classes
never seemed so worthless;
they'll give their arms to return
to these wasted chairs.
- Being polite
is a shield,
a way to forget
friends covered
by sand, storms,
soot and shit.
- They'd tear the flags from
their uniforms. Burn them.
Burn every fiber. Watch
the stripes burn to ashes.
Inhale fumes from the burning
threads. If they could.
- They never smoked before being called to duty.
- Some phone calls
should be
forbidden.
- A motorcycle is
heaven's temptation,
a fantasy of heading
south with no
destination in mind.
- An e-mail means more
than care packages
containing bars of soap.
- They are afraid. Yes.
- Some days,
they just want
to sleep;
they know it
would be
a waste of time.
- They'll miss Toledo's gray
rain, the seagulls' V before
the storm strikes, the thunder's
drama as it rolls in.
- They no longer text
the word goodbye.
In print, it feels
too final.
- When I ask for
a fact,
they tell me they
will die.
When I ask for
a claim,
they tell me
soon.
- After your first crew cut,
everyone is a stranger.