Back Pocket Panic Poem by Sadek Mohammed

I put my panic in my back pocket
and climbed into the military UAZ.
From the back seat I could see nothing ahead
but the driver's dusty beret.

I looked
past the side window glass
at the scorched palm tree fields.
At madness cosmic carpet
between river Jasim and Basra.
At death breeding
behind every atom of dust.

The body collectors trailed behind.
Emptying the pockets of all remains.
Tossing all in their van:
Talismans,
Prayers,
Love letters,
Photographs.

It takes two to tango,
but one to wage a witless war.