Basic Training

We were like filings, lifted straight 
As though a magnet stiffened up 
Our figures like the hair upon 
Our closely cropped skulls. But we, 
Draftees, were regularized 
In squad, platoon, and company. 

We bunked, barracks crammed, fell out,
Helmeted, to a bitchbox bark, 
Where magnetized we strode as one 
On Fort Ord’s January streets. 
The early morning fog’s miasma 
Spread over hills and lights and barracks. 

We sounded off in unison. 
For us, in uniform, Korea 
Formed a private watershed. 
It set some personal divide 
Till private course was loosed again. 
I never thought contrariwise. 

As in life, we were in training 
Honed to different basic needs. 
What remedies survival has, 
I only snatched at some, not all. 
A bayonet’s a fearful thing. 
A killer’s rage I never mastered. 

Life can be blunt. Koreas appear 
Anywhere. The end of skill 
Is to stock the skull with strategies, 
Prepare the bones for an exercise 
That will from a well-stocked store fall out,
Fierce as filings magnetized.