Pillbox Dream Poem by Phillip Erb

The helicopter’s rotor pulses furiously
Thrashes the atmosphere into the ground
The meadow’s long green hair lies flat beat down
Slaps at the dried-up earth
Stirs her from her dreaming
Clouds of drought dust billow up to Heaven
Until the earth pulls it back down straight through my nose into my lungs
Coats my mouth from the inside out as it fills my teeth with sand
The beast begins to lift my stomach twists and bends
My mind fills with fragmented images thousands of men and women
Who have met with death on the business end of.50 caliber
Certainly not forgetting the blood let loose in this very seat.