21 July 2010


I think about the time

I lost a metal scribe

And the base went quiet.

I grounded the whole fleet.

I remember my favorite toolbox

And the slippery sheen of hydraulic fluid

All over my battle dress.

Fireguard in the snow.

I can still taste the toxic sweetness

Of the de-icing fluid.

They told me to keep my mouth closed.

Like I’m still right there.

And sometimes I forget why

I left it behind.

Working title. Working poem. I'm sure it's the first military themed poem I've put here.

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