Monday, February 13, 2017
the Army gave me
a five-pound box of nuts.
Put it under my bunk
and took it out every once
in a while to chew.
Meditatively. The box
announcing, first, its provenance.
Nut Assortment. Grade-A, M1 A1
and on and on in chains of numbers.
Every system must put nuts
in their place.
The sitting and chewing was not
a social act. Other troopers distantly
doing their things. Blurs. Well, any life
lends definitions of loneliness.
One of mine.