Monday, March 23, 2026

War Metaphor Guy - poem

  This is a variant on an old poem and so possibly a re-post


Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

 

War Metaphor Guy

 

Does keyboard-war-guy truly mean that he

Will shoulder rifle, pack, and spares, and range

On blistered, bleeding feet into dead hell,

Obedient to an ill-considered oath

That calls upon his soul to deny itself?

 

How noble is his war -- upon the screen.

 

Does he intend to suffer sin-stained years

Of deprivation, lowest-bidder tins

Of surplus slime stored since some previous war,

Of murky water gassed with chemicals,

Of gasping, breathless, sodden, rotting heat?

 

How easy is his war -- upon the screen.

 

So does he really want a poor man’s soul

Ripped screaming, sh*tting, bleeding from his life,

Intestines flyblown in the devil’s sun?

Will he be satisfied with an eyeless corpse

Bloat-floating down another Vam Co Tay?

 

How glorious is his war -- upon the screen.

 

Now, keyboard war guy, march away, away

And how God wills, dispose the video games.

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