Your dreams
Haunt you
In the backseat
Of your Toyota
As you try to sleep
In the heat
Of summer
Not a piece of lint in your pocket
Can't even afford a chicken wing
But you remember when
You hit the foothills of the Himalayas
Home of that blue jewel, lapis lazuli
A young flight medic
Getting intimate with mortality
Playing footsie
With the angel of death
Pulling mangled bodies
Back to the rotary wing
A couple missions here
Couple missions there
Nothin'
Too
Crazy,
And then, boom,
Reality got stripped bare
Ripped holes in the fabric.
A break
In the hellish normalcy
You stared into the eyes of your enemy
Pale blue, almost lazuli
Just tryin' to save his soul
Nothin' like fighting at 1,000 ft, huh?
'Cause he's got his mind made up
As he reaches for your pistol
You're trying to start an IV
Ain’t shit crazy?
You already thought you were dead
A zombie saving the lives of the free
This has to be a dream
He was just supposed to be a casualty:
Shrapnel through and through
Sucking chest wound
Tourniquet to the right leg
One on the right arm, too
Vitals, iffy
Hypotensive, trending
Needed fluids, soon.
So when this motherfucker
Started reaching
And couldn't nobody hear it?
You could hardly believe it
Crew chief and the pilot were talking
Not paying attention
Man,
Adrenaline is a wild thing
You struggle
He struggles
where's the fucking chief?
Guess death's coming at 1,000 ft
The bird howls like a banshee
And God's out on patrol
It's either you or he
This is the way it has to be
There's a ringing in your ears
Is that his heartbeat?
Yours?
The chatter of your teeth?
Or just an animal roar?
Didn't get to see your mother
Your daddy either
Never felt their love
Now you know
They were just two people
Maybe you could've had a wife
Maybe a kid or two
after you got home
and all this was through.
Now, it's either him or you.
There's a break in your memory
As you return to summer
That's been happening more lately
Forgetting things
VA sent you to a specialist
Said you need more testing
Could be that
Could be this
Gonna need an MRI or contrast CT
Could be something
Could be nothing
You look up at the drooping upholstery
Hanging from the ceiling
Of your beat-up Tundra.
You still feel the sweat of the mountains,
You still taste the gasoline
Of that chopper's thunder.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat
Outside your truck
Gunshots
Clipping the horizon
On the other side of the parking lot
Near the Walmart beside Verizon
Ain't no lullaby
Just a requiem.
You close your eyes to sleep
But all you can hear is that chopper scream.