War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

not g2g (after)

o how you craved the desert road
those summer nights into autumn laid
they lay before you, shallow graves, your sleep
wound razor wire round your head, your chest,
you couldn’t breathe you couldn’t breathe
nor dream, dreams slaughtered like starving sheep
with rusty knives, your dreams were shuras
of the nightmare kind, repeat repeat
the last patrol, the stroll a loop, loop endlessly
it should’ve been me, it should’ve been me
your metal brain, your tongue, it clangs, it tolls,
the bitter taste upon your tongue
your pinks and blues, the poison pills
they stone you down the desert road.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled not g2g (after). It was posted here on February 11, 2011.


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