Love in War
The city is continually dissected
into smaller and smaller pieces
but the sun still illuminates what remains
of the original forest the small
amount of greenery not overtaken
not swamped with bars and restaurants
nightclubs and businesses people
bring their portable chairs to
the pocket-size parks despite
the soldiers marching in the streets
beyond despite the grinding
tanks that destroy whatever it is
that they choose just by passing
over it not needing the destructive
violence of their shells as they try
to instill fear into a population
inside the heat of their metal shells
the soldiers are stripped to their
underwear and fantasizing
they’re only teenagers and filled
with longing singing to each other
in softly amorous voices their linen
stained with the lustful juice of war
and power contemplating a time
when they might drink a beer or two
and take their lover brutally from behind.
Poet and songwriter Paul Ilechko lives with his partner in Lambertville, New Jersey. He is the author of several chapbooks. His work has appeared in a variety of journals, including Ethel Zine, Feral Journal, Iron Horse Literary Review, Gargoyle Magazine, and Book of Matches.