Iron

Iron

A Poem by Donald Eugene
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"

There was a way you would creak and limp on your iron leg.
I was afraid of your smile.
That cold shell.
Swallowing all those Men.
Men.
Men.
I was once one.
I cut away from that Nazi lampshade.
You will not brighten my bruises.
And by some luck one got caught in your throat.
His kicking leg had put you in a hult.
Made you choke ever so hard.
My giant daddy killer.
You coughed up those bodies.
And they rejoiced.
But still those bodies hung-
like limp rags over the night.

© 2008 Donald Eugene


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Added on July 16, 2008

Author

Donald Eugene
Donald Eugene

The Wonderful Whole In My Heart, NY



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Brute Brute

A Poem by Donald Eugene