38th Parallel Poem by Michael Pruchnicki
38th Parallel
Once I lived in a village not far
from the thirty-eighth parallel
near Kaesong, in fact
The snow that February fell for days
blowing horizontally to the ground
hills and paddy fields filling with drifts
We lived, ten of us, in a hut
that smelled of kimchee and garlic
we huddled together on the warm floor
The sergeant in charge was from Chicago
a big-mouthed Irish guy from the South Side
he talked constantly about his gang back home
The North Koreans who ran the prison camp
grew to dislike the sergeant and our guys
we ate less and worked harder than the others
One night we talked it over with the sergeant
we told him that he had to compromise
and go along with our captors - or else
No doubt we angered him because
he got his Irish up and began striking out
an Italian guy from Hoboken put a shiv in him
We buried him next morning behind the messhall
the Korean in charge was pleased as punch
we ate better and worked a normal day
Today I often think of that hotheaded sergeant
who died in a foreign land because we were scared
and thought more of our own survival
Licia! Not only the images along the way but the beautiful wrapping up needs special mention. Vow
My favourite of your poems. It begins invitingly, a slice of autobiography. I like how the uncomfortable reality is only uncovered at length, and the stark, formal (military?) structure and rhythm. There also, as others point out, fantastic images enlivening the senses.
The sting in the tale... your unsentimental telling of this story of a deed that can't be undone and needs to be lived with is powerful stuff, Mike.
law of nature some die so that others may live but such memories do not fade
Less men, less problem. It always happens at war, as well as in everyday life. Though disgasting as it is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 7:41:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Interesting, thought provoking, you caught my attention and carried me along to the end. The images created, the people evoked were vivid.