Brain Dead

Matthew Borczon

I was
drinking  tea
and milk
at 5 am
when a
helicopter
flies over
my house
reminding me
of early
morning in
Helmand

118 degrees
and the
taste of
dust in
everything

when the
helicopters came
it felt
like they
were just
throwing
soldiers out
of open
doors and
each one
you caught
would break
your back
or hip
a little more
each time

and it
didn’t seem
to  matter
if they
lived or died
to anyone
but us

and later
not even
to us.


Issue 1 : Fall, 2016