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Now get the hell out!

Really, we would love to have you stay but we would feel rude about that as we have left. As in gone, defunct, kaput. We aren't here anymore. Sometimes, when it's late and we are worried about dying, we do believe in reincarnation. So, maybe we will live again. We'll let you know if that happens.


Overheard in an Airport by Jorn Ake


Several years ago, while I was living in Prague, I found myself sitting in the Milan airport waiting for the final leg of a horrible flight back home. Seated behind me was a group of Blackwater-types on their way to Iraq, jawing back and forth at each other. Lots of testosterone. At one point, one of the guys said, "Nothing metaphoric about getting blown up." I thought, great line and wrote it down. The recent shots by James Nachtwey at 401 Projects gave me the rest.

Overheard in an Airport

Nothing metaphoric about getting blown up.
The air explodes like a motherfucker,
then there are pieces of bodies
all over you, someone’s brains and guts
and your blood on the ground.
Then if you’re lucky, they come right away,
put you in an ambulance
and take you to a hospital
where they cut off your clothes,
start swabbing you down and sewing you up.
Someone pulls a finger out of your pants,
so they count yours
8, 9, 10
8, 9, 10
then throw it away.

c. J Ake 2007


Anonymous said...

Nah. They save the fingers. They put them in a little baggie.

J Ake said...

Evidently not in Iraq. There are too many.

Anonymous said...

Brutal. Clear. Concise. Everybody run.

Anonymous said...

Too true and too awful. Gotta get them out of there now that we have totally screwed everyone in Iraq. Good poem. Nice picture.

Anonymous said...

Out of your pants???