I see tractor-trailer tires rumbling
over the khaki-tan carcass of a deer—
an unfortunate victim of momentum.
It bounces tire-to-tire, as if it had
sprung to life with each resurrecting
rotation, only to be knocked down again
and again, leaving stains of blood
dead-red on asphalt. It will be forgotten
in road hiss of tires’ hum; the grappling
engine valves and axle screws.
I can still hear the drive train of gears,
the chains of Iraqi tanks treading sand
and carcasses with khaki-tan fatigues
thick with red, resurrecting momentum
of hate.