Sergeant Connolly's Advice for the New Recruits

These hills are known for their crimes.
Let me tell you a story.
A lizard winds its way through the rocks.
It stands on two legs
And recites Arabic poetry.
I shot the thing
And watched its head splatter
In a billion pieces like a melon.

(I wonder what the trees tell their children
When the killing is over
And night walks upon the desert.
Honey, when the sun rises it will be over.
This is a land of peace. This is a land
Of fat goats and fallen figs.)

I was born again in the dust.
You’re not alive until you’ve seen
Your intestines on the ground before you.
Your body has a shape.
Did you know that?

There’s one last thing I’ll tell you.
I remember the old war chief circling the sky.
It loured over a small Afghan village,
Casting its shadow like wrath
Upon the scrambling villagers
And turban-heads, who clutched
Machine guns like life buoys to their chests.
I remember the war chief’s battle cry.
I remember the turban-heads’ spines snapping
Like birch trees, and the villagers
Crumpling like wet napkins, spilling
Their guts out on the unforgiving sand.

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Edit: Made some slight edits.