Here On The Front
︎︎︎ Marshall Peace
︎ May 23, 2025
I miss you
The sun is setting in the west
Cold rains will come in the night
As we sleep in it
Fitful, shuddering
Thinking we heard those invisible Havana drones
Sent by the enemy to play directed energy ultrasonic frequencies
That disarm us, blur our vision, make us throw up
And fall down and writhe
But no,
It will only be thunder
Look, we will say,
Don’t worry, I see lightning
It was only thunder.
Sleep, if you can.
I know it’s raining,
But you’ll need your strength in the morning.
It’s truly a war of imagination —
Every day we build fortifications and then abandon them,
Go someplace new,
Build new fortifications,
So that the countryside is full of empty fortifications
So as to confuse the enemy
As to our numbers, and strategy.
And it’s truly a war of faith —
We don’t know when this war will end
Or when it started
Or where we are
Or who the enemy is
So each man must draw strength from a source all his own.
Some stick pics of best girls in the linings of helmets,
Some have names
Tattooed on biceps
All I have is a memory
Of waking from a nightmare,
Running through the dark to you,
The house made huge and unfamiliar,
Crying out, and reaching you,
Your arms wrapping around me,
And falling back asleep,
Comforted, dreamless.
And indeed I’m lying
Sleepless in my bivouac
Missing so much
You and so much
I cannot believe it.
But this memory will comfort me
When the enemy sends those invisible Havana drones
That play directed energy ultrasonic frequencies that disarm us,
Blur our vision, make us throw up,
Fall down, writhe,
And yearn for home as we have never yearned before again.
The sun is setting in the west
Cold rains will come in the night
As we sleep in it
Fitful, shuddering
Thinking we heard those invisible Havana drones
Sent by the enemy to play directed energy ultrasonic frequencies
That disarm us, blur our vision, make us throw up
And fall down and writhe
But no,
It will only be thunder
Look, we will say,
Don’t worry, I see lightning
It was only thunder.
Sleep, if you can.
I know it’s raining,
But you’ll need your strength in the morning.
It’s truly a war of imagination —
Every day we build fortifications and then abandon them,
Go someplace new,
Build new fortifications,
So that the countryside is full of empty fortifications
So as to confuse the enemy
As to our numbers, and strategy.
And it’s truly a war of faith —
We don’t know when this war will end
Or when it started
Or where we are
Or who the enemy is
So each man must draw strength from a source all his own.
Some stick pics of best girls in the linings of helmets,
Some have names
Tattooed on biceps
All I have is a memory
Of waking from a nightmare,
Running through the dark to you,
The house made huge and unfamiliar,
Crying out, and reaching you,
Your arms wrapping around me,
And falling back asleep,
Comforted, dreamless.
And indeed I’m lying
Sleepless in my bivouac
Missing so much
You and so much
I cannot believe it.
But this memory will comfort me
When the enemy sends those invisible Havana drones
That play directed energy ultrasonic frequencies that disarm us,
Blur our vision, make us throw up,
Fall down, writhe,
And yearn for home as we have never yearned before again.
Marshall Peace is a writer and butcher in Greenville, South Carolina. His Substack is called Wounded Veteran Chicken BBQ.
Also by Marshall: Future departments
Also by Marshall: Future departments