David McLansky

Freshman - 826 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

1941 - Poem by David McLansky

My cousin, Hartmut, God curse his soul,
Got me in this stinking hole,
Guarding prisoners in the Camp
Who smell of shit and mud and damp;
These stubborn, sullen, dirty slobs
Who drag and do a half-assed job;
Their vicious fights for dirty rags,
Their scheming over half-smoked fags;
Their rotting smiles as they beg to please
When you knock them on their bony knees;
I hate this duty, this boring tour;
Oh to guard the Italian shore:
A sunny beach in the bright fresh air,
Not this latrine, this grim despair;
Here comes Lansky, the Russian Jew,
All bones and eyes, he smells my stew


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Poem Submitted: Friday, October 4, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 5, 2013


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