Military Sexual Trauma: (MST) Per the Department of Veterans
Three airmen styrofoaming cheap BX wine,
How did sip come into that night?
How come moon how come me?
Sliding into a hill I was sliding.
The last light I shoved
Boots laced for ceremony
Varnished for inspection
Templed toward two hills
The girths of West Virginia
Bearded & mustached—
And him & him were white.
How. Dip sip. Come into that night—
A sly pill against your will is a lowdown thing.
Desert Storm's hoodooed pour.
Runny insomnia. What wasn't red?
Red was viscous
And crimson & crawling everywhere.
Where are my dog tags?
It was August of 1991.
My notebook was black.
Called the First Sergeant.
Major Opalenik was mandatory.
Wartime staffing was critical.
And there was Chaplain Prez.
And Chaplain Prez prattled
Let's live through this, young man.
And I rearranged my room.
And my next notebook was black.
And I boomboxed Nina Simone.
And earned my marksmanship ribbon.
And my rifle dreams saw faces:
The two bastards from West Virginia.
And no man was safe with me.
Copyright Credit: Rodney Terich Leonard, "Military Sexual Trauma: (MST) Per the Department of Veterans Affairs" from Sweetgum & Lightning. Copyright © 2021 by Rodney Terich Leonard. Reprinted by permission of Four Way Books, www.fourwaybooks.com.
Source: Sweetgum & Lightning (Four Way Books, 2021)