by Nicole Yurcaba

           for my father

we are told not to look
we are told this never happened
we are told to clean it up

eight hundred feed short jumped
turns a man spins him face-forward
smelts flesh bone blood fluids
crunching sand

disjointed unrecognizable wooden doll

what was his name?

we are told to forget it
we are told this never happened

Nicole Yurcaba, an instructor of English at Bridgewater College, is the daughter of a Vietnam War-era combat medic. Much of her current poetry focuses on the experiential translation of combat veterans' experiences. Yurcaba is the third place winner of Virginia's Skyline Poetry contest for her poem “Kenova.”

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