Shrapnel and Starships

by Jesse Durovey

The Reaping

Aching fingers scrawling war.

Black flies, bloated and buzzing,

Turn to ink on pristine pages—

More line soldiers fumbling in the night.

 

Black flies are bloated and unheard,

In a world clogged with ersatz love and electronic enemas.

As line soldiers are dying in the night—

Is war worth winning when innocents die?

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