Not a face you’d find photo-chopped on

National Geographic fronts. Not

safe enough for a shoot, anyway:


not with skies electrically alive,

drowning in a constant droning

that sets the teeth even during sleep.

Image source: shutterstock.com

In khaki with old Kalashnikov

too big, a brother’s hand-me-down,

he speeds past ruined, horizonless sands


and scans for contrails as surely as

a pupil bent to text. Inside him

lies the unexploded man, the knot


not yet unravelled – then a bullet

threads the needle of his eye. Stray

chance. Then his body, like other sacks


is simply shrugged from out the back

of the truck. Twenty other eyes,

ten unexploded mines, watch on.

Image source: shutterstock.com

Featured image source: shutterstock.com