Peter Venable
Solitary Sadness
"Solitary Sadness comes over me"
—lyric, Military Madness, Graham Nash
—lyric, Military Madness, Graham Nash
1. Lieutenant Paul Carrington Venable KIA 7-18-18
WWI: you fought in the Battle of Soissons, France,
allies vs. Germans, July 18-22, 1918.
allies vs. Germans, July 18-22, 1918.
I see the terrors of mucky trenches—barbed-wire fences—
sniper crosshairs—German Maschinengewehrs on sledge mounts
blasting 500 rounds a minute—shells exploding mud and limbs
in shocking arcs—bayonet charges through salvos of bullets—
pineapple and stick grenades blasting shrapnel—mustard gas
filling shell holes—
sniper crosshairs—German Maschinengewehrs on sledge mounts
blasting 500 rounds a minute—shells exploding mud and limbs
in shocking arcs—bayonet charges through salvos of bullets—
pineapple and stick grenades blasting shrapnel—mustard gas
filling shell holes—
which one was yours? One of
107,000 allied casualties vs. 168,000 German casualties?
107,000 allied casualties vs. 168,000 German casualties?
All I know is 98 years later
you were killed the 18th of July...
not which hour not how, not even why—
my great uncle.
you were killed the 18th of July...
not which hour not how, not even why—
my great uncle.
Lieutenant Venable:
CARTE POSTALE Nov 9th, 1917 A E F. France:
I study your black and white snapshot
dressed in Khaki wool uniform,
wearing your Tan Campaign Hat
CARTE POSTALE Nov 9th, 1917 A E F. France:
I study your black and white snapshot
dressed in Khaki wool uniform,
wearing your Tan Campaign Hat
Why do I miss someone
in a photograph
I never knew?
in a photograph
I never knew?
2. May 1969
Nixon’s Draft Lottery. 5-25-47: mine was 361.
That night beer poured down my throat
in a Yankton SD bar under cigarette fog
and staggering to the dorm I swayed on a mast.
That night beer poured down my throat
in a Yankton SD bar under cigarette fog
and staggering to the dorm I swayed on a mast.
I missed his homecoming:
He was on the Big Bird of Paradise,
rising over the South China Sea.
Purple hearts aren’t pinned over shrapnel scars
but Lady Luck trumped a bad, bad hand.
The air conditioner froze their bodies,
gaunt from sticky, breath-sucking heat.
Flashbacks—hooch hut scenes, artillery thunder,
swollen foot pain.
rising over the South China Sea.
Purple hearts aren’t pinned over shrapnel scars
but Lady Luck trumped a bad, bad hand.
The air conditioner froze their bodies,
gaunt from sticky, breath-sucking heat.
Flashbacks—hooch hut scenes, artillery thunder,
swollen foot pain.
In thirty-five hours they land at Homeport USA.
Dressed in fatigues, a few wear medals.
At baggage claim this kid slurping a candy bar
"How many did ya kill?" A suit says nothing,
Stares, shakes his head. Porters whisper.
Old ladies point.
Dressed in fatigues, a few wear medals.
At baggage claim this kid slurping a candy bar
"How many did ya kill?" A suit says nothing,
Stares, shakes his head. Porters whisper.
Old ladies point.
Stink sticks forever.
smell streams quickest to memory’s heart:
napalm incinerating flesh—rice-paddy muck—
rain forest heat—diesel fuel in latrines—
happy smoke—spurting blood—
M16 smoke.
smell streams quickest to memory’s heart:
napalm incinerating flesh—rice-paddy muck—
rain forest heat—diesel fuel in latrines—
happy smoke—spurting blood—
M16 smoke.
As he walks from baggage claim,
the score today was VC-7 / US-41.
Generals keep score; body baggers keep quiet.
the score today was VC-7 / US-41.
Generals keep score; body baggers keep quiet.
. .
A swarm of Cong charges, black pajamas
spreading into bat wings, hover
to drop frag grenades. His M16 jams.
His buddy explodes into flesh confetti.
spreading into bat wings, hover
to drop frag grenades. His M16 jams.
His buddy explodes into flesh confetti.
He jumps from a crumpled bed, dripping, panting...
3. Last Shell
An artillery shell whooshes a mile,
ballistic trajectory targets a roof—
Who’s there? Jew? Muslim? Christian? Child?
ballistic trajectory targets a roof—
Who’s there? Jew? Muslim? Christian? Child?
As you last gaze the hole in the ceiling
through plaster dust haze, does your final prayer
flash past this galaxy, beyond Hubble’s deep field?
through plaster dust haze, does your final prayer
flash past this galaxy, beyond Hubble’s deep field?
Or, does your soul rise
into pure consciousness as
you exhale your last breath?
into pure consciousness as
you exhale your last breath?
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