Aftertaste

First published in The Tundish Review, Issue Ten, 2019

after Ben Quilty’s Sergeant P, after Afghanistan, 2012

He leans on his crutch, more collateral

damage than man

Arms atrophied from misuse

veins bold as uppercuts

White flag gut waves below chest

frown nooses round neck

His eyes are wet olives in the bowl

of his face. Eat them

Scoop them from his skull

and ingest this dull burden

Please eat them. He’s seen enough

to lose his taste for sight.