Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Intensive Care Unit
A twilight world
A mad world
Peering down infected wounds
Mortars night building shiver
Down from the black sky flares float
Broken bodies from a few klicks away
Eyes of a shattered nineteen-year-old Marine
Staring at the door to Yokosuka
R & R in Sydney
On the corner of Bridge and Pitts
The wind is chilly, and little raindrops alight
On his spectacles
Sydney-siders dressed warmly in dark suits
And dark waistcoats
And dark raincoats
And carrying dark umbrellas
Bustle about, coming and going
Purposefully walking here and there
The skinny American in a pullover
And thin slacks
Shivers conspicuously
And marvels: this is July!
On the Corner of Bridge and Pitts
September on the Vam Co Tay
Rain is drizzling on the River
And the whole world has gone grey
Amid the muck and mud and sandbags
Stinking and hot and effing miserable
On the Cambodian border
But the chlorine-mud coffee is warm
And they usually don’t shoot us
in the daylight
And The World is only
Fifty-three days away
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