John Short
Playing Soldiers
Our armies are lined up:
facing off across the carpet,
generals on fine horses
presiding from behind the ranks.
My uncle launches an attack:
sends his infantry forward
then scatters them dead
across no-man’s land
for dramatic effect.
They die so easily, I think.
handfuls of cheap life
sacrificed in the war zone.
Later, watching TV
we get news from Vietnam.
I know Hai Phong sounds funny,
he says, but don’t snigger.
Imagine those bombs
were falling on you
and me and Grandma?
Then he teaches me chess moves,
castles, kings and queens
the truth that mounted knights
were really not romantic.
facing off across the carpet,
generals on fine horses
presiding from behind the ranks.
My uncle launches an attack:
sends his infantry forward
then scatters them dead
across no-man’s land
for dramatic effect.
They die so easily, I think.
handfuls of cheap life
sacrificed in the war zone.
Later, watching TV
we get news from Vietnam.
I know Hai Phong sounds funny,
he says, but don’t snigger.
Imagine those bombs
were falling on you
and me and Grandma?
Then he teaches me chess moves,
castles, kings and queens
the truth that mounted knights
were really not romantic.
Biography
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John Short spent years in southern Europe and now lives in Liverpool, UK. Widely published in magazines such as South Bank Poetry, The High Window, Envoi, The Blue Nib, London Grip, Sarasvati and Poetry Salzburg, he was a Pushcart nominee in 2018. His pamphlet Unknown Territory (Black Light Engine Room Press) is out this month, and his collection Those Ghosts (Beaten Track Publishing) will appear later this year. Check out his blog at johnshort.poetry.blog
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