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Louse Hunting

Rating: 2.9
Nudes -- stark and glistening,
Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning faces
And raging limbs
Whirl over the floor one fire.
For a shirt verminously busy
Yon soldier tore from his throat, with oaths
Godhead might shrink at, but not the lice.
And soon the shirt was aflare
Over the candle he'd lit while we lay.
Then we all sprang up and stript
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Terry Craddock 28 March 2015
Thank God we do not suffer the indignation and agonies of lice, as soldiers in trenches during World War One did. I think if voting readers understood the topic of this poem better, they would have appreciated the context and voted higher as the poem deserves.
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