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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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