post down the line
We grew up, lips leerin’
The whistle went son, the game begins
Once round, no-man’s again
Barbed wire, no-holds quintain
Drilling, dodging, filthy pawers
Bargain-basement boys, puffed-out crawlers
Face full of maggots, a gimlet kiss
A polite sigh, before good-bye.
The forgotten soldier on holy day
Secret of life open as a chimney breast
Knick-knack of scarlet jabot on his chest
No eidola, always a lousy son
For God’s sake, get in line
It’s that old earth’s crying time.