H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n

DAVID COPE

Marines with cobbled armor

fight thru blind streets, windows where

killers' eyes could be staring down even

now—the camera follows a lieutenant who'd

talked of struggles with morale, his bright

face self-assured despite his doubts—now

in combat racing thru with his fellows then

screams & fire, bullets thudding above

the wall where the camera catches one

yelling above gunfire, he's hit, he's hit—

call it in—puddle of bright blood spreading

on the pavement below: here on the TV

in the locker room where boys & men

suit up & return naked with their towels.

eight stand before the TV now, still—

one has dropped his towel & stands fully

naked, mouth open, fully exposed.

[Originally published in NHS 2005, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs05/david_cope.html.]