AUTUMN
by William Pauley III
‘twas the second of October
& they were up to their necks
guns, knives, things that gave birth to explosions
strapped to every strap
& the mud on their boots
was more red than brown
as they marched the pawn’s march
through a sea of wet flesh
& with every step
the ground boiled & steamed
as hot gas shifted towards the surface
loose intern…
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