War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

little corner of England (20)

Little corner of England how they long for June rain,
the dusty boys in arids patrol ambush alley,
martyrs row,
can’t wait to wear temperates, fleece caps again,
can’t wait to bitch feckin’ sentry duty, soaked,
with Fire Team partners, chew, lipper, dip, and smoke
nicotine stoked, slipped—when Sergeant Major’s not looking—
between upper teeth and lips, arcs always
right to left, left to right, watch out for the big bastard
with the crown and jacking up stick who can bust telltale
brown jellyfish gob a billion miles away.
Little corner of England your clouds spit, piss,
bring late spring roses to their knees. Even
cows are unhappy in the way dusty soldier boys wish.


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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled little corner of England (20). It was posted here on June 10, 2012.

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