Here, Bullet

Here, Bullet is a book of war poems by Iraqi war veteran Brian Turner; it was published in 2014 by Alice James Books. The fact that the poems are filtered through Turner’s firsthand view of the Iraq war—combining the emotional, creative aspect of the work with concrete experience—adds a commanding sense of authenticity to the narrative.

Despite his time in Iraq, however, Turner doesn’t draw any conclusions or force any moral judgement on his experiences; he expertly leaves this for readers to do. Though the poems are classified as war poetry, Turner’s approach renders his verse universal, so that the subject matter indeed feels applicable even to those who have never been on a battlefield. Themes of death, sacrifice, hope, despair, war, and purpose are explored in the poems, many of which take on a surreal quality given the bleak environment they draw from. Taken as a whole, Here, Bullet highlights the effects of war specifically, and, on a larger scale, underscores the human condition as it comes face-to-face with adversity.

Here, Bullet comprises 46 poems that are divided into four main parts, as well as a preface poem that opens the collection. The preface poem, “A Soldier’s Arabic,” hints at the collection’s overall subject matter, feel and tone. The speaker explains how the Arabic word for love, habib, “is written from right / to left, starting where we would end it / and ending where we might begin. (1-3)”



The concept of ending and beginning then segues into the beginning and ending of war, and how these beginnings and endings mean something different to different people (hence the idea that war can solve differences). Death also comes up, and, “To be spoken, it must be earned. (15)” This can mean that the speaker has earned this death, and so accepts it. His acceptance means that he holds the cards, not death. On a larger scale, this line foreshadows how people may or may not have earned death in the resulting poems, but they must face it, nonetheless. Indeed, the rest of the poems hover around the themes found in the preface poem, in one way or another.

The titular poem, “Here, Bullet,” is comprised of sixteen lines, and explores fear and death. The poem is addressed to a bullet, and begins as such: “If a body is what you want / then here is bone and gristle and flesh. (1-2)” With the first two lines, Turner sets up an interesting juxtaposition. The speaker dehumanizes him- or herself by using the word “gristle,” which is usually used to denote a slaughtered carcass. By contrast, the speaker is addressing a bullet, thus personifying an inanimate object. With the ensuing lines, the speaker offers his or her body to the bullet, even though the body is no longer human. As in the preface poem, the speaker shows agency in the face of death. The speaker’s agency, or volition, is further addressed with the following lines: “Because here, Bullet, / here is where I complete the word you bring (9-10).” Though the “word” that the bullet brings is “death,” by completing this word, the speaker once again shows agency. He or she will not die in vain and without taking ownership of death.

Many critics also note the relationship between the spiritual and the physical within the last few lines of “Here, Bullet.” At the end of the poem, the speaker transforms yet again: instead of a bird or a carcass, he or she is now something cold and metallic, thus aligning with the impersonal and metallic nature of the bullet. Yet the speaker is something more than just this. Growing into something more than mere flesh, the speaker shows how human beings grow spiritually, not bound by their bodies, whereas the bullet will only ever “achieve” the physical aspect of the body it’s destroying. In other words, death doesn’t have to be the end of us, especially if one believes in life after death.



Brian Turner published another book of poetry, called Phantom Noise, in 2010 with Alice James Books. A memoir, entitled My Life as a Foreign Country, was published in 2014 by W.W. Norton & Company. Turner’s essays and poetry have appeared in notable magazines and journals, including The New York Times, National Geographic and Poetry Daily. He’s also the recipient of several awards, including a USA Hillcrest Fellowship in Literature, an NEA Literature Fellowship in Poetry, and a US-Japan Friendship Commission Fellowship. Moreover, Phantom Noise was shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize in England.