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15.5.07
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
twice
8, 9, 10
then throw it away.
c. J Ake 2007
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5 comments:
Nah. They save the fingers. They put them in a little baggie.
Evidently not in Iraq. There are too many.
Brutal. Clear. Concise. Everybody run.
Too true and too awful. Gotta get them out of there now that we have totally screwed everyone in Iraq. Good poem. Nice picture.
Out of your pants???
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