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All Syria is a TwitterBy Ryan Carson QuailBellMagazine.com @RyCar106: America uses uranium based chemical weapons in Iraq. Then decides to go to war with Syria for using chemical weapons. #icanteven @mp2642: FYI-it’s nuclear not chemical. If you want to know about the bullets used, call me. i took an octopus out of the hudson and into a home aquarium so clear. fresh spring water. glass glowing like glass inside glass. the octopus suffocates. who would’ve thought the space between halves of an atom could threaten all our poetry @RyCar106Correction: uranium is of course a nuclear based weapon. However America did use white phosphorus in Fallujah as well. I went out into the side-yard and sat in the grass. there was snow on the grass and I worried that the fresh khakis I had put on were going to get wet-butt, but then I just decided to ride it out. I lit a 27 and put on a song. cigarettes are great for enjoying one song. I put on a song that I wish I had had when you were away. the song, “Ooh Do I Love You” by Cap’n Jazz was released before you were away, so technically I had it, but like I didn’t have it yet. not ‘til Joe had given the song to me outside the Pratt Institute library. how love songs can be so diverse we're so scared we measure up each species in our heads. i can step on that li'l fucker's jaw. removing a cap kiss your wife but kiss her like you just landed in buffalo without a coat with cigarette dangling from yr mouth and oozing from yr mouth is the love that’s on yr lips made tangible for the first time by a habit that you picked up when yr stress levels were gauged by a descending scale in dc that is always yellow take off yr cap it says OPERATION ENDURING FREEDOM when dad left grandpa, i got a coin from grandpa. it was supposed to remind me of the justice dad was fighting for. i looked at the coin and thought of all the hands that had touched this coin. it had seen cities. fields. pockets. the air. the look of joy when you find that one bodega that sells loosies. it just kind of made me feel like i had to wash my hands. i think about the time that you said he deserved it when i took the whole yr rights end at the tip of yr nose thing too literally maybe mistook it entirely i jumped toward you and before the moment happened there was a flash and before i could experience the moment it was on the front page of a newspaper announcing someone else’s heroes journey. it was a moment before I got to experience it. i digress. professor recounting: “the audacity to even use the terrm WMD” she cries. it’s the first time you see a professor cry i get in the car and you keep saying bradley. chelsea, I say. not bradley. i can snap him in half like a wishbone. and i think to myself (like i'm always thinking) i want everything and two of some of this shit. find my place in the apehouse. see myself in their eyes. my fingers on their feet. my possessive love somewhere in their embrace. my freedom's limitations sitting on a par 4 short top grass and i’m drinking because i can’t see the sun and i’m waiting on an address, from my phone and i’m hollering. i’m singing. not that simple I say. why not turkey? why not france? they want to. freedom. a lot of places have freedom. back in the car you tell me to see the golf pro i turn up the radio “ah the ballad of ryan listening to the ballad of tim kinsella” i’m hollering. i’m singing. i tell you i love you and you tell me you love me too. and i’m sitting in fellujah and we’re both yelling at a cliff face shooting at the sky i open NPR on my iphone. i’m startled by the lack of finality of this situation. any of it. and i’m smoldering like the skin of a decaying octopus as the trace amounts of oxygen try to escape it. i’m smoldering like syria. i’m smoldering like a bullet that follows another bullet into the side of an ice cream shop and hits an innocent bystander and their family doesn’t know because no one will ever know anything. i’m smoldering like the light on the sidewalk next to the farm i always go to when we have it out like this and the light makes the water smolder and i wish i could flick it off. i’m hollering. i’m singing. #Poem #Poetry #CreativeWriting #Syria #Twitter #Freedom
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