Flying Island

Five Star Hole by Grambi Dora Iraqi sandstorms whip up the air. Lunch time, the hottest hour The range walk to the dining facility an open bar of AK-47 rounds RPG’s, and IEDs It’s standard to carry whale loads of weaponry and ammo, combat gear at the ready. There might be a little sand in my ears, but I guarantee my M-16 and M-249 seasoned with CLP are locked, cocked and ready to kill.              xxx Cleaning my weapon is an art Hand sanitizer, Q-tips and baby wipes Mom thinks I was use them to keep my ears clean and take showers, while the ample supply of Kotex tampons works magically on bleeding bullet wounds              xxx My battle buddy and I take turns sleeping in the sand after digging our hasty fighting positions with our Army green entrenching tools. The hole is quiet. We listen...

Roll Call by Grambi Dora You cut back the fro ’cause the Army sergeants  said the long hair had to go You wasted thirty some odd days              at the shit-shittin’  Fort Polk duty station another rotation before killin’ in Afghanistan  But you had to fuck it up mixin’ the doctor’s prescription Demerol with shots of Grey Goose  Now they pay you  a 21-gun salute  Taps plays down the tears  Your M16A2 Rifle stands butt stock up with a sand buried nozzle dog tags dangle  Boots laced  just there where your feet  were supposed to meet Bio: Grambi Dora served served 4 years of active duty in the Army from June 2005 to June 2009. He graduated from Indiana University in 2012 with a bachelor's degree in General Studies, with concentrations in English and Psychology. He works full time at the Indianapolis Veterans Affairs Medical Center. He enjoys writing, playing guitar and d...