For War We Are Made

Naked ribs of a cargo train
drag graffiti all the way to the coast.
I watch the crawl from the highway,
try to translate the scrawl.

Coffee steams from a paper cup
clutched at the wheel.
There’s a crisis just ahead.
I steer clear of wreckage,
barriers, broken glass
on this blighted road that I hope
is a short ride to a win.

But I can’t harbor delusions anymore.
Trust, hope, function.
That all changed when
they stormed the castle,
tore down the banners.
I raged at the ruin,
remained in a constant state of panic.

That was the end of my trust
in almost anyone.
That glory morning made us all
blood enemies.

Carolyn Adams’ poetry and art have appeared in Steam Ticket, Cimarron Review, Evening Street Review, Inflection Review, and Blueline Magazine, among others. She is the editor and publisher of the Oregon Poetry Calendar.  Having authored four chapbooks, her full-length volume, Going Out to Gather has been published by Fernwood Press.  Her poetry has been nominated multiple times for both Best of the Net and a Pushcart prize. Read other articles by Carolyn.