Mark Bryan

"Two Battleships" by Mark Bryan

 

Robert Sward


On My Way to the Korean War...

On my way to the Korean war,

I never got there.

One summer afternoon in 1952,

I stood instead in the bow

of the Attack Transport Menard,

with an invading force

of 2000 battle-ready Marines,

watching the sun go down.

Whales and porpoises,

flying fish and things jumping

out of the water.

Phosphoresence--

Honolulu behind us,

Inchon, Korea, and the war ahead.

 

Crewcut, 18-year-old librarian,

Yeoman 3rd Class, editor

of the ship's newspaper,

I wrote critically if unoriginally

of our Commander-in-Chief,

Mr. President,

and how perplexing it was that he

would launch a nuclear-powered submarine

while invoking the Lord,

Crocodile Earthshaker,

Shiva J. Thunderclap,

choosing the occasion to sing

the now famous Song of the Armaments,

the one with the line "weapons for peace":

         

          O weapons for peace,

          O weapons for peace,
          awh want, awh want

          more weapons for peace!

 

At sundown, a half dozen sailors
converged on the bow of the ship
where, composed and silent,

we'd maintain our vigil

until the sun had set.

 

Careful to avoid being conspicuous,

no flapping or flailing of the arms,

no running, horizontal take-offs,

one man, then another, stepped out into space,

headed across the water,

moving along as if on threads.

After a while, I did the same:

left my body just as they left theirs.

 

          In-breathe, out-breathe, and leave,

          in-breathe, out-breathe, and leave.

          Leave your body, leave your body,

          leave your body, leave your body,

 

we sang as we went out

to where the light went,

and whatever held us to that ship

and its 2,000 battle-ready troops, let go.

So it was, dear friends, I learned to fly.

And so in time must you

and so will the warships,

and the earth itself,

and the sky,

for as the prophet says, the day cometh

when there will be no earth left to leave.

 

          O me, O my,

          O me, O my,

          goodbye earth, goodbye sky.

          Goodbye, goodbye.

 

 

 

Bio:

Robert Sward has taught at Cornell University, the Iowa Writers' Workshop, and at the UC Santa Cruz Extension. A Guggenheim Fellow, he was chosen by Lucile Clifton to receive a Villa Montalvo Literary Arts Award. His twenty books include: Four Incarnations, New & Selected Poems (Coffee House Press), A Much-Married Man, a novel, Rosicrucian in the Basement, Heavenly Sex, and most recently, The Collected Poems: 1957-2004 (Black Moss Press). Sward serves as contributing editor to the Internet's Web Del Sol and Blue Moon Review.


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