Without Merit

Memories without merit spool
Through my brain.
Things I’ve not done
Places I’ve never been
Breathe in and out
Like the air in my lungs

I remember the heavy

Coppery smell of
An  effusion of blood
And the gag of fear
At the back of my throat
Accompanied by the insistency
That I not demonstrate panic
To the boys I command.

I remember the deafening blast

And bird-like flight from the
Tarry soil
Realizing I had just stepped
Upon a landmine
Wondering that this must be
What it feels like to die
And time seems to slow
To a frame-by-frame
Eternal sequence.

Memories without merit.

You are strange

Says my friend.

You know too much of war
Yet you are a man of peace.
This is not good
He says.

I want to tell him

That I agree
That I do not want to think
These thoughts.
They are not my thoughts
And I want them purged.

I cannot say this.

He already thinks me crazy.
But I can describe in minute detail
The acrid smell of burnt powder
The spinning howl of howitzer shells
And the thrushing jet of bullets
Ripping the air
Sounding like the tearing of sheets.

I can hear the shocked protests
Of the newly wounded
And the gritting teeth of those
About to die.

Pass the cream, goofball
Says my friend.