War games

Photo by Michael Held on Unsplash

Premonitions plague me, persistently
Shaking, sweating, swearing I seek
To swill out the bad taste in my mind.
Why do I think: “There’s something
In the air?” Something that’s just not there,
Yet is. Some unknown unknown that haunts
My dreams and chases me through fields
Of, fire. Napalm I guess.: American fire
Jelly that flays the skin off children. Pares
Life down to dust. Agent Orange a herbicide,
A defoliant chemical with a tactical use
To strip bare the edges of humanity. A naked
Girl running for her life, her skin a-flame.
As if all life were a game with no shame.