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Saturday, December 5, 2015

Vado, vado, io sono andato




Saturation
Sick bay whispers of treaties oblique
Battle fatigue sets in
I mark time on the corner, transparent
Buses unload camouflaged hostages
Old soldiers shovel the snow
Nobody beats the draft


Troops pour into my gristmill encampment
I shove down the roughage and debate my weight
Belching exhausted, disabled veterans
Army boots beat my head into shape
All in a day’s war
The pentagon wants my autograph
The children are calling me Joe

Down by the river the fleet verifies me
We consciously move in an unconscious stream
Forces uncharted, unenvied, uncouth
Dribbling victory, run down my chin
Fill up my boots with your strategy
My union suit is full of holes
My phantom flesh is soggy
ctc (Leocadia)


 
 

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