Fragments

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Everyday reports of war seemingly everywhere can impact some of us in ways we'd prefer to avoid. But, however daunting a nights fragmented dreams, their genesis begs respect, prophetic perhaps the message. The infinite jest speaks beyond its pages. “Try to learn to let what is unfair teach you.” David Foster Wallace.

Fragments They will be... you do these kinds of things can't be helped imagination Band Aids some call them I know you just do fingers wrapped ‘round cold steel it's then it's now differences slight like playing marbles tripod-cradled taws and steelies "Bombers" "Pots" "shooters" all aim straight roll in the hole you wait a long time you know there's more to touch you'll cradle other steel formidable kind you know you hope you're a kid you'll do your best find other holes aim and shoot some you dig some dug for you explosions know indiscretion hell... they say beginnings never end always renewing like dawn's edge ever changing reds oranges yellow lying on your back knew those once before the night never ended smell the smell now it's all the same keeping life going safe clean sterilized that's what they do amplified speakers seek help always there's a page off the wall in your battlefront ISP headgear no different always the call always the request imagination tools battle tools you know what's coming you just do the swoosh of auto-doors distant sirens always there's sirens always there's arrivals like now drinking my coffee another first day of a new year every year so familiar pushing through iron air waiting to be free to see a sunrise again to know a candle still glances but now just footsteps coming at me a walk I've known Bethesda recall remembering when sight remained at the ready absorbing fetid squalor half naked Afghan children barbarous patience staring wildly as we passed elder's eyes theirs we cradling shooters defenseless smiling until too many buried IEDs I adjust steps almost here sitting seems forever that's wheeled-life for now robotic legs in the works back there back in Bethesda coming coming soon for now standard issue dark glasses covering eyes that once were footsteps stop standing now in front of me me Taking my hands "Lt. Baygen...it's a boy." "Shall we...your wife is waiting" my hands grip the steel following todays fragment forging yesterday's pieces a doctor an imagination beyond rolling my hands atop the chrome and rubber wheels my imagination Band Aids how shiny it all is they tell me this transport this evidence today's somewhere will he let me cradle him will he look at me with hatred or compassion will he know we have made him what he might become fragments longing

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