Treat the dead with dignity.
This was taught after that incident
After the fire fight
After the night sweats
Those stupid kids spat on the dead.
Those actions after killing them
After shooting very large slabs of lead,
From advanced heavy machinery of steel
And electronics and gun powder,
Into their flesh, after ripping apart
Their innards, scooting over, kicking their guns away,
A few more shots to the movers
Then ducking retaliation. The guy to his right
Is down, his blood on his shirt, like water
Splashed during a water gun fight.
Now his friend from home is down,
And brains this time, all over him.
His job to kill, but not that,
Anything but that, killing is enough
Any further and the line is crossed.
That, that’s entrails, well intestines,
And a stomach lining, it’s just stuff
Not spirit, death is not the end so
Don’t, not again.
Poems