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Gouache on Tyvec, varnished. 20" x 20".

Accompanying poetry:


David Connolly

Originally written after a memorial service for 59 troopers from the Second Squadron of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment who were killed in action or who died as a result of wounds received when ambushed by an entrenched, numerically superior force while on an operation in the Michelin Rubber Plantations, near the town of Dau Tieng, in what was called South Vietnam.

Cold, despite my blanket.

Lonely amongst my friends.

Wondering, with the things I’ve done,

can I ever make amends?

Sickened by this needless waste.

Stoic to those around.

Wondering, what will break me:

the next fight, or death, or sound?

Missing those who love me.

Hoping for the next month or so.

Wondering, how will I ever fit in

with people I just don’t know?

Terrified by the death grins

Afraid I’ll be one of the dead.

Wondering, why did I ever think

it wouldn’t be as bad as they said?

Used by the rich of my country

Duped by those I looked up to.

Wondering, how can I tell those

who blindly wave the red, white, and blue?

I hate every fucking one of you

who make dollars from our deaths.

I hate every fucking one of you

for my friends’ dying breaths.

I hate every fucking one of you

banker or corporation head

I hate every fucking one of you

for so many, so young and dead.

I hate every fucking one of you

with your pin-striped, dark blue suits.

I hate every fucking one of you

for all those empty boots.


All artwork by Jane Irish is legally protected by U.S. & International copyright laws. Images may be used for educational use but under NO circumstance may they be used for commercial purposes without proper and prior permission from the artist. Unauthorized duplication or usage for commercial purposes is prohibited by copyright law. "Thoughts on a Monsoon Morning," by David Connolly, copyright 1994.