THE ENLISTED MAN
As when Robert E. Lee showed his troops on
the flanks while the infantry at center trembled,
I wither and fall with each new cannon call.
I don't want to fight, nor rush headlong into
still another plumage of smoke and degradation.
This world is too much with us too soon, or
however the thespians get that phrase across.
The grass here already has blood upon it,
and I find marks of casings and shells
everywhere. All bad things abound,
and I still have two years. Oh why,
oh why; this enlistment is
killing me.
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