When they left, when they trotted off to play war
They were fresh, from some mid-west high school,
Athletic letterman’s jackets and class rings
they love to sing songs their father sung when they were young
when they were their age, when they were fresh
Classic melodies, timeless harmonies
Sung off key by 4 South Dakota boys in a poorly armored Humvee
45 mph down a dusty Baghdad street
the words removed them briefly from the anxiety, the intensity
the propensity of bullets and bombs gravitating towards American soldiers
the tune soldiers on from cautious voices

They say when the roadside bomb goes off
That you may not hear the bang, but feel the concussion of the explosion
Like a lover’s kiss goodbye seared into the side of your face
their voice
Shattering the percussion of eardrums,
The blast
sending razor sharp metal and glass flying like snowflakes
in a blizzard of shrapnel and shards
is followed by the flash of fire and heat
removing you from the seat of a poorly armored humvee
the song now sounds more like 4 South Dakota boys screaming off key
yelling in unison, who’s hit? who’s hit? IED! IED!
He remembers where his arm used to be
The phantom fingers trying to remember the grip of little sister’s hand
He’s trying to understand how to walk again
This is a situation he can’t run away from
Like when he ran away from home, to be a man, to find a sense of duty
to fight for a country he loved
And his only regret was not using these now broken legs
to take that long walk
With his father, so he could he talk him out of
Signin’ up, shipping off
Bye bye American pie
Welcome to the jungle, where blood and sand
mix with rubble and stones,
demolished homes this is the concoction for democracy
While we are all happily head boppin’ to HD radio up highway
A soldier’s head is bobbin’ bloody from gun battle
while his best friend is screaming over radio waves driving to get away
He never heard the blast,
but without warning, he felt it like father attempting
to force tough love into his skull
on a bitter morning in November
He’s trying to remember the taste of warm apple pie and cold beer
But the memory gets scattered with the brain matter
And skull fragments fill up the void like names of fallen soldiers
Who never heard the roadside bomb go off,
Your memory goes off and you forget their faces
Have trouble placing the names
You’re lucky if you lose an ear because the ringing never stops
Like their screams never stop tolling in your head
It weighs heavy on your purple heart pumping guilt and rage
Pride and shame, brash cowardice
If there was a medal
recognize every time you fought off thoughts of suicide
You would wear it like skin, tattooed with battle scars,
Sit proudly in dive bars
tell war stories, about lost limbs and high school friends,
And saying goodbye to Miss American Pie.