TIC ('06)
Oct 5, 2009
you drove. slowly through the night. the fire fight. red. white. metal. the smell of cordite. focused. never lost your cool. the net crackling in your earpiece like paper kites. on fire. your sites greened. you keen to shoot. straight. clear. clean. unreal. your lance of bullets hot. into the dark. into the night. your breath steady. even when Sun Ray went down. when LAV 31 Bravo was RPGed. thud. thud. the burst of fire bud. the sting. thud. your shot. aimed. ready. slow. steady. fired. lit Panjaway night. like Roman Candles. on All Hallows’ Eve.
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About This Page
The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled TIC ('06). It was posted here on October 05, 2009.
Bob Devine
This type of post is my favorite kind. I do not know what it is called… poetry? I just like the way it reads.
Oct 05 2009 · 23:32