WHAT KIND OF A
MESS IS ALL THIS?
Amidst the normal warmth of things
the blanket casts its spell, sending
warm elation out into the world
around. Here, the applause is
loudest. Just before it fades those
few reluctant souls immune to
stopping just keep clapping on.
Such a type of tidal deafness
makes another sound. Indeed.
-
Commanders come and go, but
far beneath them the enlisted
fools remain. Just waiting for
orders, or waiting for death.
I can't abide either, so - breaking
ranks and darting off - I am
caught across the field and
rudely dragged back. By the
very same men who merely
follow orders. Indeed...
Must I yield?
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