War after War

Funny day,
Olive drab hay,
starched uniform.
Fall in Soldier,
Falling hammers,
and red unicorns.

What is a cold, cold war?
Where blood doesn’t run
and boys chase whores?
Where bourbon is free
on cigarette trees
in the land of Lourdes.

Lourdes, Lourdes,
Mother may I,
Mary pray for me,
as I watch her spell cup.

Mother may I,
Mother please…
Mother may I
C – U – P?

Laughter, laughter,
funny boy.
Off you go now
off to war.

No war, no war.
Just whore after whore.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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