Two Poetry excerpts from: I'm All Inside Out, Poetic Memoirs

My world famous poetry book, I'm All Inside Out, Poetic Memoirs, includes these two poems. The first reflects a childhood travel experience. the second, War You Know, is a remembrance of war stories told to me by a U.S. paratrooper regarding his Korean tour of duty.

TRAVELING TO GRAND CAYMAN ISLAND

I am retching repeatedly

an extended car-sick trip

from Madison to Miami

squiggles on a map

and odometer numbers—

my job to keep track

frequent stops

along strange and barren highways

to puke in gravel and grasses

sitting in the front seat

facing straight ahead as ordered

Dramamine

of no effect

the smell of the car’s interior

enough to renew the urge

so I stroll along the highway

the family car at heel

it creaks along

following me and my dog

seated by the airplane window

attempting sleep

“Look out the window at the fantastic view!”

as we fly over Cuba

(with special permission

on Lufsa Airlines)

an airsick bag refills

landing in the Caribbean

what a relief

thirsty, so thirsty, I run the tap

at the coastal cottage sink

“Oh, that’s rain water from the roof storage

container. It won’t ever get cold like back home!”

my father accompanies me

to a banished trailer

exhausted, I sleep

next morning

we free our lungs and tip-toe

around puddles on a dirt road

cloudbursts chase us under a tree

with enormous, frog-colored leaves

minutes later

the sun dazzles us

with unfamiliar steamy scents

of floral vegetation

volcanic soils

and living sea

a mystic island kiss of rainbows

double and triple rainbows

and best of all

my father’s smile

WAR YOU KNOW

he was in the war, y’know

your defense

you who stayed home

smugly criticizing, complaining and whining

about your boring job and lofty politics

unreal

he was hit in the war, y'know

twice in his left chest

small metal rockets 

tore through his flack-jacket

and invaded his flesh

he had just stuck his head out of the tank

to look for his men

a Master Sergeant, soldiering on

he jumped out after them

tossing blown-up bodies onto his tank

choosing which ones

would have the chance to live on

leaving others too weak

or already dead

precious seconds

no long “good-bye, friend”

he was a war hero, y'know

his name and picture in the paper back home

while he lay in a foreign hospital

injected with morphine and cocaine

to ease the pain and suffering

which did not go away

when his rotation landed him back home

so you're surprised?

 that he searches to score?

to shake off the terrified screams

the burnt flesh and the zombies of his tour

just because the war's over for you

it's not for him

it's not for those men who still hear rifle fire

and whose adrenals are automatically wired

to hit the dirt!

every time you celebrate July 4

they were in the war y'know?

but it wasn't called a war, you say

what do you know about it anyway?

Fuck You!

that, however, they would never say

(In memory of George Incorvino who was a Tank Commander and Paratrooper in the Korean Conflict.)