Baghdad After Dark Poem by Ted Sheridan

I look to my left....over my shoulder
I look to my right....behind my back
Thinking I am safe I venture out
from the security of my guarded position

located directly behind the imposters
who have been following me
for these last few miserable days
Smelling nothing in the brisk night air

apart from some stale donuts and cold coffee
left sitting on the uninhabited outside table
of a closed dinner.... my mind
empty of all nourishment looks for a Cop

My appetite speaks to me repeatedly
in words I can understand 'Feed me', it says,
'My soul is empty and the acid
is eating away at my ironclad stomach'

I used to have the guts for all this killing
but of late it has lost a lot of the thrill
It must be some sort of revelation+