By: Matthew Borczon My anger Is for you not the horse you rode in on it’s for the lightning not the tree it dropped across the road and it’s not for the soldiers who killed and died in the war who still kill and die in my dreams no my anger is for the men who start wars in the first place and at me for believing that any good would come from it it’s for the kid I was who enlisted without a clue about the man the war would make out of me ### Graveyard shift Another sleepless night and I am on the internet looking at pictures of whales who appear to sleep standing up near the surface so they can get air they sleep only an hour or two a night as long as a ship doesn’t hit them and I wonder what their dreams are about as I remember that the origin of the term graveyard shift is from the times when the dead would sometimes wake back up inside the coffin so they would tie a string from their wrist to a bell and if it rang the worker on the graveyard shift would have to dig them back up from the ground and I never wonder about his dreams because I have spent ten years on the graveyard shift shovel in hand digging soldiers and Marines women and children out of the ground as Afghanistan rang in my ears. ### I was thinking this morning for Dana About the bones of the sun and the blank stare of our kitchen clock I am listening to Bob Dylan wondering if you can ever really truly be one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind as I am wishing I could swim across the surface of your coffee cup into the light in your eyes as I reach for your hand across the table it’s weight is heavy with everything you bring to our…
