(29 July 1874 – 1 September 1915 / Cathedrals)

poet August Stramm
What do you think this poem is about?

Battlefield

Tender sods fallen asleep at their iron
Blood fluffing outpost scum
Rusted crusts
Slimy flesh skinned
Sucking scores the dessicated.
Baby-faced
Killerkillers
Win king

Submitted: Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Comments about this poem (Battlefield by August Stramm )

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  • Karen Deeks (3/21/2012 5:39:00 AM)

    A finer a piece on war as I've ever read. No wasted words. Just pure and to the point of such a waste...

    1 person liked.
    		0 person did not like.
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