get out of the rat race

Abilene is better than the Metroplex or the Houston/Galveston juggernaut, or God forbid, New York City!


War Poem


Manila folders fan out on the bed in my office

The long lingering aroma of ammonia creeps out of the bathroom;

Irritating my nasal membranes

That acrid fragrance of jungle latrines.


We were fodder for the soil. Napalmed in Vietnam.

Those clinical insertions of gasoline & flame; In fields of fire

The ethereal spirits at parade rest.

And I, I was retching — regurgitating.

Resurrected, it appeared, for my reunion with Mr. Grave.

nearby a Buddha sits, near rain drenched rows of rice

And I, lying on a pile of stones

The wind caressing my hair; dog tags glinting in the dawn.