Archive for vietnam

Doing Time by Pris Campbell

Posted in Pris Campbell with tags , on May 19, 2011 by Scot

Midnight. The whomp of a police ‘copter.
I drift up from a dream, sink back,
ask the Dream Man if there’s a support group
for Vietnam wives, marriages dead,
not their husbands.

But you appear, wearing dress whites
from our Pearl Harbor wedding,
wife in red satin on your arm.
I forget the Dream Man, slink away,
Birkenstocks slapping the pavement
in my haste.

I thought you were lucky in your
supply ship assignment.
No jungle
No upriver
No Napalm
Shelled once, your letter screamed
‘They were trying to kill me. They were
trying to kill me!’

I never saw the war in your edginess after
or in the wall you erected between us.

I was too young then to know that it takes
only one knife at the throat, one car wreck,
one rape to change a life and that the wall
you built was your prison, not mine.

empty frames by DB Cox

Posted in DB Cox with tags , on March 30, 2011 by Scot

time rides a river—
memories rust
like old bullet holes
in highway signs—
sighs of relief
now that you’ve
all gone
moved along
with your hard facts
about the bags
of flag-wrapped kids
who ate red dirt
on height-numbered
killing hills
celebrated at home
with silent songs
of praise
in secret parades
down vacant
american avenues—
immortalized by artists
with no names
selling monuments
with mannequin faces
selling paintings
in empty frames