The green shell of the tank clanks and rattles as it travels through the desert.
The driver is large with a smile on his lips, while three men in the back joke and laugh.
The man in the passenger’s seat is not laughing; he won’t even crack a smile;
He is looking out to the dust and sand, letting his thoughts break and scatter.
The only thing he does to let the world know he is attentive is when
He removes his cigarette from his lips, lets the smoke pour out
And closes his eyes. His dog tags are visible, blood type AB,
Religion, Christianity, Name is Chris and the rest is covered in the shadow of his neck.
Their day wares on, sometimes leading to shouts of disturbance
Or in some situations, tangles of wire that must be snipped.
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