poetryrepairs #207 14.12:135
ABIGAIL B. CALKIN : How Boys Become Men
GRAIG KURTZ : Lovers Tussle
poetryrepairs.com #198 14.03
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How Boys Become Men
When the soldier cries, he sheds no tears.    I.   Your mother thought you were a pyromaniac. A friend assured her all boys are until they turn into men who build good fires.  Watch him stand before his primal flame.    Home on leave, you had your 19th birthday in Iraq. You drive with an M-16 on the floor of the front seat leaning up against the passenger door.              Terrifying the town             But no one asks you why   You stop your car to talk to me. How good it is to see you, How's your family? You ask. How are you? I ask. I killed a 12-year-old boy.  It's good to be back.     I killed a 12-year-old boy.             I'm home for two weeks.               I killed a 12-year-old boy. I'm going to the park.    Home on leave.  A week ago you were in Baghdad streets shooting at people, being shot at.  You did not leave those streets when you stepped off the plane into the woods of Alaska.   What do you see behind the trees in the forests you played in as a boy?   You're 19.  I weep for you until you learn to weep for yourself. Till then, World, hold him in the palm of your heart.    II.   Your mother tells me you guard a colonel.  That must be safe, I reassure her. No one's going to let anything happen to a colonel.    Home on leave, you display six photos of buddies killed.  I sly a shot to your mother, mocking myself, as I slow my walk, Seeing I was dead wrong.    Shot glass in front of each photo.  You place the seventh glass —or is it the first— in the middle before the unit emblem.    You fill each one.  Down a toast for your comrades from the shot glass in the middle.  Go to the first photo. Say something about him.  Offer a silent prayer. Pour his shot on the ground.  Down the row in one more farewell to each.  I wish their families could see you honor them. I glance at my husband, a three-year two-war veteran— your mentor you say, calling your mother from Iraq for his phone number.  Tears brim his eyes.          I went to Russia and Ukraine a month later.  Told several in both countries.  Ah! The mothers nodded, That is how our soldiers honor their dead in the field and once home: Slavic tradition in a US Army platoon. 

poetryrepairs #207 14.12:135

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Lovers Tussle
I won’t kiss you ’til we quarrel; I want to know that you fight fair and strong and long, with love; so the worst of you accords with your best that I adore. Let us tussle, then rebound refreshed for tempests much more kind, not less profound.

poetryrepairs #207 14.12:135

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poetryrepairs.com #198 14.03

page 025
C.J. MARECIC | Glavni Kolodvar [Zagreb Train station]
SHERY MaBELLE ARRIETA | Blocked, Stumped, and Stuck
page 026
HAL SIROWITZ | The Moving Dinner
CRAIG KIRCHNER | Sickness Unto Death
page 027
JOHN GREY | Hawk Devouring a Pigeon
page 028
L. WARD ABEL | A God Reminded
REID BAER | Fully Present Pioneers
ANJANA BASU | Night Wind
page 029
DAVID FRASER | The Room Where Sometimes in the Silence Love Can End
RICHARD FEIN | Filling in Last Clues
ANJANA BASU | Orange Stein
page 030
S MINANEL  | Nature's Balancing Act
AZZA EL WAKEEL | A Gypsy in a State of Love
C. J. MARECIC | Chrysanthemums
page 031
LAURIE CORZETT | In the Details
DIANE PAYNE | Grieving in Peace
D,B, COX | Road like a Rover
page 032
STEPHEN MEAD | He's Fairly Young
JOHN HORVATH Jr | Our Heroes
D. B. COX | The American Traveling Circus
page 033
ELIZABETH KERLIKOWSKE | Alternative Medicine
ROBERT FEIN | All Night Talk Radio
JAN OSCAR HANSEN | Men Overboard
page 034
WILLIAM DORESKI | Dickens and Nabokov on Beheading
KIRBY WRIGHT | Black Point, Oahu 2004
page 035
KIRBY WRIGHT | Gretchen on the Beach
JEAN HULL HERMAN | The Widow's Reply to her Psychiarist
page 036
JEAN HULL HERMAN | Murphy at Thanksgiving
poetryrepairs.com #198 14.03

poetryrepairs #207 14.12:135

Poetry endangers the established order
of the soul - Plato

REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition. -- O.E.D.

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ABIGAIL B. CALKIN : How Boys Become Men
GRAIG KURTZ : Lovers Tussle
poetryrepairs.com #196 14.03

thank you for reading poetryrepairs #207 14.12:135
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