World War I

I

White wine wonders
red wine knows
(give me Blue for the morning rose)

Fly down, Angel
with your steel nose
plant
steel
seeds
in stuttering rows.

(The democrat hardly knows
what is going when it goes.)

II

To your parents, Last,
but your sons call you First;
First of your kind,
the tall, gray, Cursed

Of whom, pray, will the Judge demand:
Why did this boy die of thirst?

White Wind wanders
Red Poppy glows
And Blue Lords topple in helpless rows.

Chime In!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s