Wednesday, February 21, 2007

YOUR MORSE CODE OR ... .._ .. _._. .. _.. .

for dad

I have a gun and could use it

to end my suffering

spare others the trouble

of having to care and then

if in the past, I am also gone

then those no-named, 

with our people's faces

those humans 

those hundreds, no, more

did not perish on that

icy cold Korean ground

covered in white clouds

from the big guns 

put in my hands

murdered and for what

there was no glory in being

a minimum wage gun for hire

my rage at what I did

lasted a lifetime

though I tried to drown it

in alcohol

like my father before me

unlike him, I was always pulled

from the drink at the last minute

liquid claws weren't strong enough

to keep me under, though now

a lure of those voices in

the loss of air and anesthesia

got me in touch with all their souls

who wanted me with them

© Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2007

The Yucatan Penninsula

No comments: