There's some war on TV, I don't know
Which, being fought with the original results.
There's one live and one Memorex, and
One being shoved in under the bathroom door.
In war, you're not allowed to shoot
Men carrying flags, only men carrying
Pictures of their children in their wallets.
The Veterans of Future Wars are drilling
And parading in the frozen playground
Across the street.
The captain, a tenish boy who has already
Earned his first Purple Heart,
Has rounded up the poets and stuck
Their tongues to the frigid steel
Of the monkey bars.
(Now they're shitting the truth
Out of their asses).
-Thomas L. Vaultonburg
|Poems At the End of the World was my seconf chapbook, published in 1992 by Subourbon Press. It is 11 pages long.|