Sky full of ghosts,
a war in mind,
I hear tactical voices.
Been discharged three years,
feel empty as a vacant apartment.
Still got fumes in my blood.
Sometimes, I hear fizzing, too,
like positive and negative leads, touching,
feel like I’m breathing nails.
Before she left,
my wife said she started to dream
said she’s seen brighter eyes
in the faces of the dead.
Now, my car is my living room.
Got Rhode Island plates,
smallest state in the union.
Can barely see it on aerial recon.
I pull into the parking lot of this Cineplex,
put on my night-vision goggles.
Even if my blood’s been hypnotized,
no one can find me. Not here.
I wait for a while,
tune the car radio to the designated station,
decipher the grey, static hum.
A good Marine, I await
Appeared in The Los Angeles Times, August 31, 2014