1.
No more, I said to the people.
For me, no more Battles.
Leave me to the scattering mice
and the enveloping sunset.
Leave me to the prettiest parts
of this gruesome world.
All my people are
clamoring for release or reinforcements,
but I say, no more. Insistence tugs at me
when I see all the blood but I say, no more.
Shame grips me like a barnacle,
scarring my scarred flesh, and I say, no more;
guilt rips a gash in me
and plunges both filthy hands in, and I say,
no more; rage pours out and cleans me
and stains me, but I say, no more.
Take me to a creek and an uncomplicated mating
of good mammals just being good mammals.
Let me side for once with not doing anything
but retiring from Battles. Let me hand back my medals
and let the people hate me for inaction,
for I am old and less inclined to war than once before.
Just let me lie. Let me lie a while longer.
Let me lie, I beg you, let me lie about some more.
2.
The Battles are so large, and I am so small.
The Battles are so long, and I am so tired.
The Battles, in blackface and headdress,
in rape gear and pesticide incense,
will not let me go. The Battles,
armored in tongue lashing and armed
with rough justice, with pure oppostion as holy writ,
with the explosive love of fire and crush,
will not let me go. The Battles will not let me go
no matter my age or service.
If I go, I die;
if I stay, I die;
so why not let me lie a little longer,
let me lie here a little longer;
Battles, let me lie; if all that happens
is that I die as a result a little later,
let me lie. You’re going to win anyway,
and this empty night for once is so beautiful
I truly cannot stand to turn
back into the struggle.