Rambo: the Poem

not First Blood: Part II or Rambo III

but the first time John Rambo

walked into Hope, BC

                                       [spoiler alert]

all PTSD’d from the Vietnam war

his best buddy dead from agent orange

on the bridge just outside town

the sheriff couldn’t leave

well enough alone

didn’t know what Rambo

had been through

had to stitch up

his own damn arm

with a thread and needle,

made a shirt from a burlap sac,

and eventually blew up

Hope’s only gas station

all because that sheriff

couldn’t show a drifter

Vietnam vet with PTSD

some goddamn compassion



Matthew Lovegrove lives in the traditional, unceded territory of the Skwxwú7mesh Nation, works as a Curator in a small-town museum, and has released a series of folk albums under the name woodland telegraph. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Red Alder Review, Train: a poetry journal, and Dwelling Literary. Send help, learning to twitter @mwlovegrove

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *