Our Father, who art in Heaven,

are you really there?

Do you care about us down here?

Here is what matters now, drafted

to this swampland, this unholy

marsh, seventeen and strung out

on confusion-

—

Hail Mary,

were you so serene?

There’s only one thing holy

about a holy war, and

that’s the bullet-ridden

bodies on the killing floor.

—

Hallowed be Thy name.

Do You really think I believe

anymore? Do You think I care?

You’ve forsaken us all in here.

I had a life, I had a girlfriend- I 

promised her, “I will buy you 

a garden where your flowers

can bloom.”

—

full of grace,

I’m sick of seeing these bodies-

day after day, men die

in my care- I bandage,

my pristine white uniform is stained,

crimson fury, like the air bled

where the bullet sliced it.

—

Thy kingdom come-

oh, would it?

—

The Lord is with thee.

And is He with me? Day after

day, sweating, but too cold-

I was in love once,

I fell perfectly into the hole

in his life- then a bouncing

betty made holes in him.

—

Thy will be done- on Earth

let my foolish pride forever

let me down- I was so stupid.

I should have gone to Canada-

dodged…

—

Blessed art thou among women,

Mary, give me grace, save me

from my own tears,

my own vomit,

my sweat,

their blood.

—

As it is in Heaven. Give us this day

our daily bread, and forgive us

our trespasses-

eat our daily rations- beans

again- then march, up and down,

heat, fog and rain- and some 

of us just go nuts-

they say we can dance as we march, 

we can dance to the radio station

that plays in our teeth.

—

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb,

The acrid stench of urine, sickly

sweet festering wounds-

another flood of dying men.

Save me from this.

—

As we forgive those who trespass 

against us-

Napalm and ocean, sea smells

and tangy blood.

Lead us not into temptation…

and deliver me

from

evil.

—

Jesus.