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by Anton Violazzi
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I lied about my age
to enlist before graduation
but in some year of our Lord
I got my education
They said too small
to wear a red cross
when I couldn’t lift
the big ones
but Uncle Sam
still had use for me
so I cleared mines
and blew up bridges
And in days
that followed
saw young men
young women
new widows
old children
cook inside that great
big green kettle called war
We emptied burnt out tanks
and filled up camps
before scrubbing down
what was still left inside
We tugged and pulled their bodies
and watched the skin trail behind
I couldn’t lift the big ones
but I could carry the best ones
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Anton Violazzi is the author of the forthcoming novel Ligate. His recent work has appeared or will be appearing in Burial Day Books, Short Édition, NonBinary Review, Nine Cloud Journal, and elsewhere.
He lives in, above, and around the Bayou Country.
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