Personal Jihad

My crotch is a mound of pounding hell
& there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’d like to be where Monistat grows
on trees, yeast is for beer & cottage cheese
is what you eat. But, I’m on deployment in Iraq.

I thought someone gave me something horrible,
my sisters set me straight. Hordes of insurgent
microscopic beasts planted spores down there.

Oozing burning misery, prove God, the earth,
Iraq & the US military hate women
or at least hate me.

I’m on a mission today & nobody cares
how I want to scratch, how I want to rub, how
I want to dive into the Tigris naked & plunge
my fist into the volcano.

My panties got so sweaty, it was salty torture
& itching death. I cut those panties off in the porta
potty with my Hajji mart Saddam knife.

Relief bubbles invade my belly making me shiver.

Our Blackhawk landed so, I had to button my trousers,
pick up my M16 & get back to work. Dropping
those panties into the muck & worrying someone
might find them the burning started again.

 

 

 

One Response to “Personal Jihad”

Join the discussion

  • (will not be published)