SWIMMING IN MY UNCONSCIOUS
I see my face before I was born—
discover how much one person
can love another. Words elusive
as quicksilver reveal my soul’s imposter.
The shapes and curves in my stone wall
become a chorus line of naked ladies
dancing to the lacquered music of the sky.
I’m back on the Pusan perimeter —
artillery barrages explode my ears
inducing the tinnitus-wailing
of an abandoned child.
Shrapnel pierces my chest.
I ‘m on my way on a stretcher
to the aurora borealis.
I search the frozen sky
for a rotary-rescue chopper,
sickened by the stink
of human excrement
fertilizing barren fields.
I can’t believe stars still shine
on a ground of littered corpses.
A rifleman’s severed head
rolls down the hill.
I concentrate on the clink
and clank of my empty canteen
bouncing along the rocky,
blood-soaked roads.
Awakened to my joyless life,
I vow to shed my mottled skin
of sweat and fear.
Milton P. Ehrlich 199 Christie St
Leonia, N.J. 07605