after war

what is given
does not heal,
only traps, body
dull, he watches
the clock.

it’s all there, within him still;
the pills only move it around,
and when they’ve gone,
it’s a shock to his nervous system,
endocrine lines, his mind.

in the gridded planes of logic
among which humans do not belong,
soft tissue shreds and becomes

charts / metabolic pathways —
beta-oxidation of heptanoic side chains
[1–14C]acetylcoenzyme A
via tricarboxylic acid cycle
to [14C]CO2, beta-oxidation inhibition —
a -lysis, a fragmentation

time, time, time
harried doctors shrill
and someone slowly checks
the paperwork

at the end of the line, he
waits. at the end
of a lonely, dark line
made now of light
not copper, he waits.

it becomes too much,
his suffering finds release.

no deaths in vain.
best remembrance
chisels different outcomes
into the futures of those yet living,
as the engraver carves
a young man’s name
into stone.