#11
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
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. -- Randall Jarrell Almost too obvious, but good imagery, I memorized this one for some grade 6 or 7 thing. |
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