bullet holes stare in silent repose
the stench smells of sweat
his corpse stares with mouth agape
I cant look
instead I notice his lunch
an orange peel and an empty bottle

his face is crumpled from the soldier's boots
he is half in/half out of a body bag
the blackness of the bag consumes all the light and focus

Why wont he close his mouth?
flies are already starting to buzz
will one buzz when I die?

The fly, swat the fly you fuck!
You stinking orange eating muther fucker!

the soldiers who shot him
placed him on the bumper of our humvee
a trophy of conquest and a warning to others
with hoots and proud hollers echoing off the sand
the blood dribbled in the dirt
it left small dusty marroon bubbles

I drive and try not to look at the black hole of the body bag
try not to see the bullet wound
focus on the road, not the image of the mouth agape
the dull stare, the crumpled face
how was their so much blood?

the blood left a stain on the bumper that never came off
it was still there when the truck blew up 2 months later
I saw my first body, he was an Iraqi farmer, paid $100 to place a bomb
two months later a rocket hit our Humvee
I wasn’t in it,  it could have been me
I ate oranges that day

06/07/2007

Author's Note: Saw a body on my first mission. It was a little intense.

Posted on 06/07/2007
Copyright © 2024 Travis G Finborg