Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Poems By Matthew Borczon

Matthew Borczon is a nurse and navy sailor who served in the busiest combat hospital in Afghanistan from 2010-11. He is the author of three books A Clock of human bones from the yellow chair review, Battle lines from Epic Rites Press and Ghost Train from Weasel press. He publishes widely in the small press.

dress whites inspection

bleach your
cover starch
your uniform
get the creases
right and
shine your
shoes straiten
your ribbons
cut your hair
shave twice
and stand
at attention
open ranks
when ordered
and hope
no one
sees the
blood from
the last war
still on
your hands.

Early morning rain

in the early
morning rain
I almost believe
I can wash
the blood off
my hands
wash the ash
out of my hair
and dry the war
out of my skin
out here on
these city streets
I think I could maybe
come home clean
have coffee 
with my wife and
wake the kids
and start my day
not like it is
finally over
but like it
never happened
at all.

Hung over

Monday is
a blues song
its love
gone wrong
its mean
hearted drunk
and restless 

Monday is
a slaughterhouse
full of
screeching chickens
you walk
past every day
Monday is
an elephant
that falls
on the
hunter who
killed it
Monday is
a diddley bow
with a
broken string
Monday is
a memory
of the
bloodiest days
of the
war and
Monday is
a promise
that we
will all
pay for
the sins

of the
week end.

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