A Snapshot of war.
He lies next to me in the mud
Dead; a shot blew half of his skull
Away leaving the taste of brains
In my mouth.” I shot that goddamn,
Dirty, rotten rag head, Ken! I
Cut him in half before he
Hit the ground! ” Ken had a grotesque
look on his dirty, blood-soaked face.
Something I couldn’t quite make out.
I stared into his vacant eyes
And found myself unconsciously
Saying with no embarrassment,
“I’m glad it had “your” name on it.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem