Not am I certain
of the United States Marine Corps.
Not have they won every battle.
Not is the look in their eyes
a violence bred of poverty.
Their alumni wear the moustaches,
their moustaches orderly like freedom.
Their moustaches, the stinkpots of freedom,
they are strong and smell of dank.
Order the conflicts for protection.
That our wars should never end.
People come home fucked up from them.
Many people never come home.
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
from:
Antipoémus (poetry book)
novamartinpoetry.com 