Tango in a Time of War

I wrote this poem for a friend of mine, a tango partner who served two tours of duty in Iraq as a Medic.

Tango in a time of war For Luis

he dances to forget, to stop the thoughts that lead nowherebut in on themselvesno exit

he fills his ears with music from a lost childhood, an innocence that can never be recovered but lives on in the nostalgia of a rememberingto forget

his arms embrace a succession of female forms --warm, soft, delicately perfumed-- to blot out the stench of blood and the cold rigidity of the dead who surrendered the struggle on his watch.

like a medieval momento mori the implacable face of death casts its shadow over all. even in the act of forgetting something deep inside remembers, and, remembering, he wants to live, to wring the most out of every moment with a ferociousness that comes from unknowingly living every instant not only for himself but for all those whose eyes are now closed to this world. how else to live with the knowledge of having cheated death for another day when so many, perhaps more worthy, lie shattered, those whose families’ only task nowis to mournand remember

a life as it never wasand so

to live with the losing

he dances to forget, only to rememberhow muchhe wants to live. life spilling unbounded onto the dance floor drenching his partners with a ferocious vitality that will not be denied, an animal passion that brings joy in its wake. a life lived moment by moment, no past no future, only this breath suspended on the notes of a song