Cu Chi tunnels

there are tunnels down at Cu Chi

that reek of a morbid, dizzy,

deep down drift of air

that suffocates the mind.

the tunnels down at Cu Chi

are a sliver-space that despairs

all that visits and remarks

at that utter madness, war.

shady memory of a spiky

sad legacy of who was right

or wrong. visiting on the

morn of iraq’s harvest

when the grasses smelt a

special sort of musty, i

wondered when our

contemporary moment will also

become a destination of

young people seeking

the adventurous unknown.

sitting on top of the monster,

the tank, for a simple image,

a frivolous keepsake to show

friends. to show that we have

been there – that our knowledge

of there was complete in the

simple, single visit.

the images also glisten

with a glow of humanity’s

absence in the museum.

wandering the halls because

the book told us to.

we are travelers

– not tourists –

we gleefully exclaim.

we seek the route

of the ‘real’ experience.

Print this post