Mel Carter Poems

I have cut and thrust with gusto, locked horns with tooth and nail
With might and main I've held my own, outlasted chain and mail
I've taken chance with listed lance,
Crossed swords with tilt-yard blade:
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Dustbin Don
A Cautionary Tale for High School Chemisty Classes
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I step into the world

Where Hope's a tattered shroud;
Dread an iron band.

And, innocent, put neither on.
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"Old soldiers never die, nor even fade away"

He marched in measured meter to the mud-merged mitrailleuse;
Trod treadmill trudge, through sewage sludge, where no-man's nod confers
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