Marshall Gass


Toy Soldiers - Poem by Marshall Gass

Those aged between 10-16, trade in your toy soldiers
for real guns at Barrack No 33 along
mocambo rd. Come alone. Parents not invited.

Be well fed, watered, trained and tempered
in steel resolve to waste the enemy.

Uniforms supplied, washed once a year.
Make your playmates olive green with envy.
Sleep in air conditioned dormitories
roofless, and watch the stars glide in and out
of a universe you do not know.

Learn to rape, murder, loot and march
in pincer formations up and down mountains
and rest near bubbling brooks and silver coloured leaves
in the jungles of dissent. Eat from tin can plates
and smoke delicious kat leaves to rev up your libido.

What are you doing playing with plastic toys?
we can give you real ones, real bombs, guns
serrated daggers, poison pellets, misty eyed maidens,
order your disorder.
(and bald heads for target practice)

Come my children,
learn the art of war
for the good of your country.

Sign up today
the commander will even shake your hand.
Become a real soldier.
Come in today. Come.

Author Notes
The rag tag mercenaries are resourcing real soldiers from the ranks. Sign u today. Learn the art of war. All recruits must be between 10-16 years only.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Poem Edited: Thursday, April 3, 2014


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