Silk Screen Views is proud to showcase Allen Gray’s newly finished poem, “Overwatch.” Recently, we held a contest on SSV and declared two winners for it. One of the winners is Susan and she will be getting a special print of this poem as one of the winners. Enjoy the sneak preview of Allen Gray’s work.
“Stay watchful,” he says to no one, to the eyes
that would watch, fighting sleep in the intersection
of blood and dust.
Friendlies pass with a glance toward the crest
and a false smile that means, “don’t shoot.”
Rakes, shovels and Soviet-made rifles peek
from a truck bed.
It is the others, eyes down, resolute,
who conceal a day’s labor beneath tarp
and stare into a field of ochre where an
unseen hand smears the horizon. An index
finger touches cold metal.
Many days the trucks never come and the desert stretches
bare, and for brief respite the sunset’s long red arms
will not reveal some hidden pressure plate
and the figure in his sights becomes her –
his voice he imagines to be hers. In this version
she bakes warm bread, her hands flatten and knead
and the dough is the parched earth.
His is the voice saying, “lock up before bed time,”
or, worried of some faceless man who tarries on
the sidewalk in front, he says, “keep walking.”
In June, he flew home and among family become
strangers. He saw these crossroads in his mind,
and the explosions of each six o’clock cycle
ate a hole that home cooked bread
could never fill,
and she could sense the barometer’s drop and switched
the television off, as if, in not hearing,
“nobody dies, they are only sleeping.”
Still, he scanned the sand through a small silver screen,
past a toddler stacking blocks, past a reporter’s moving lips,
into the blackened shell of an American truck.
A soldier returns to his promontory to find himself
thinking of home, giving names to the lizard,
to the scorpion, who share the rocky soil
like old friends.
In these days, when the road remains clear, he prays
or pulls the day’s letter,
a “mail order soul,” from his pack
and reads in silent dusk. The only sign of life –
steam rises from sun-baked cracks,
one eye on the road below, one eye –
he pictures a room: he pictures her.
And he’s hoping the next time he’s standing there
the room is large enough to hold all of him.
© Allen Gray, 2012
Allen does not have a website yet and it may be a little hard to find his book. You can buy a paperback copy of Overwatch on Amazon. For a hardback copy, you can buy a copy from Grey Sparrow Press or email Diane Smith: firstname.lastname@example.org.