I am in an email exchange with a fellow anti-war activist of the Libertarian bent. The exchanges reminded me of a favorite poem, by Randall Jarret Do you have a favorite poem about war?
The Death of The Ball Turret Gunner
From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.