268. AGAINST YOU

AGAINST YOU
The boys who returned have already
been carted off; or they've been placed
in homes or are cracked-up in asylums
or dead. It hardly makes a difference, see,
for all these places are much alike :
the winsome drool, the very soft toast,
the weakened coffee, the food, the routine,
the over-cooked roast.
-
All things that they have seen are terrors to
them still : keeping crazed men up at night,
whipping through their memories, withering their
sex, despoiling any pleasure they might find.
Their life - as it is - remains a wounded paradise,
a paradox wherein bad images stalk as windows
which never close, letting some foul air in, or
a reeking stink of death itself. Mysterious
elves slink along their floors - little figments
holding candles that never go out.
-
Curse the darkness, or light a match.
Remain deadly silent...
or shout.