(no subject)
A poem I wrote for a poetry class a couple years ago. Found it and decided I actually liked this one and a few others I might post later. For memory or something like that. Whatever. This one was an obstruction that combined both comedy and tragedy styled poems together to make a new one. This is the final result I turned in for a grade... I think it was passing.
Six feet down and to the left of Purgatory
with only a cookie cutter tombstone,
there are no exit signs mapped.
Straight-cut jackets of every green hue
stamp the back of your neck marking name and number
for a short life service filled
with third-world bullets and no hazard pay...
like another bovine for the slaughterhouse.
You'd rather dream of being in socialite New York or sleazy LA
with a rail-thin, bottle blond on each arm,
at least until the heavy perfume of civility breaks like a burst pipeline
no longer covering the stench of human waste.
Lazy dream-clouded eyes drugged on Valium and anti-depressants
that taste like the rainbow with a chocolate candy coating.
You don't feel a thing anymore blinded by the onslaught of rapid gunfire.
Those pregnant clouds rising like a mushroom
tell of the homemade pipe-bombs and mass-produced grenades
that lit up this raging world like the fourth of July
while knocking away that silly "proud to serve" mumbo-jumbo
right out of your size 10 boots..
no body attached.