Tag Archives: home



When you’ve spent your days
Scooping up viscera
Hosing down gore
When you’ve spent your nights
Huddled with the others
Waiting for the next shell to hit your trench
When it’s them or you
So you pull the trigger
And fear to miss more than you fear to hit
And you want to dream about peace
But all you see when you close your eyes
Is the face of that kid dead in the rubble
And the yielding pressure of her body underfoot
Before you realized what, in the haze, you had stumbled over.
When food tastes like water
Water tastes like worms
And heavy smells permeate
Gun oil, swamp foot, metal blood
When all this smells like home
You’ll understand.















Do you hear it?

Please say you do too

Scratching, scuttling, nervous sounds

Like a small animal

Whose heart flutters at 200 beats per minute

Whose teeth must ever




It skitters in the walls

Tiny nails abrading wood

But worse

The tiny teeth!

Nibbling the bones of the home

The rafters

The foundation

Scratching the insulation

Gnawing, nesting, breaking down, carrying on

Now you know how crazy people feel

Hearing rats in the walls

It’s a sound which can shatter your sanity

What if you could never escape?

Those constant little scritches

The sound, the feel of damage

That intense high strung entity

So busy inside

Your ceiling and walls

What if you could never escape?