war is murder writ large
- Carl Saganin this wretched trench
i rot like all the other
breathing corpsessprinting over
no man's land:
piggies for the slaughterfor the politics of rich men
click, click, go the abacus beadswe murder strangers for medals
but when we return in coffins
what will we have earned?* * *
if both sides
refused to follow ordershow many would be spared?
YOU ARE READING
(untitled) -- a collection of experimental poetry [COMPLETE]
Poesíamy keyboard is a minefield. my mind is broken glass. when my body bursts apart, the shards catch light and look like blinking stars. ( 1 year of poetry )