Suicide #3214
by scott from jail

The private was young
And old
When he picked up the soon-to-be self-mutilating rifle
And put it down
Pulling the trigger, a bloody mess
Soon cleaned
And left a hole
Soon filled
By the next blown-away casualty of self-destruction
Flying away and then without scream


In Arabic
Or English
Rocked out in the cacophonic rap of insty-war
Or silence

Such as when another Army Suicide

Or follows
The number killed by enemy combatants
Or congress,
The Forward and AIPAC,
Haggee and Bush,
Awaiting resurrection
Whilst the family remaining files claims
Receiving cash
Or not...

Copyright © 2011 - scott from jail
Published: 3/17/11   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem