Foot Soldier
by Nevada Kerr

Making his mark in mass murder
The foot soldier bursts and smolders
The ozone weeps for him
As he scatters the dust of battle frenzy

It is futile to be brave for the camera
This game we play with smiles means nothing
There are gaps in our memories
No genesis awaits the unborn
No glowing beginnings await the war ravaged

We pay homage to the fearless grunt with a gun
He gathers old debts of pain for brother and son
Though thresholds of death smear his body parts
And fire-metal darts inflame his dog-faced heart

We offer the beggar's soul his fighting wings and rival's rings
As he spills a platoon of secret human things that only war brings
He offers us his superficial charms and his artificial arms
But no tree of life's promised light protects us from his harm

We wear garlands of thorns for a soldier ghost remembered
He bequeaths to us the flesh of brigades and infantry embers
Though a cosmetic brace supports his inhuman face
We knew him before his bombs befriended a worldly race

Our pledges entangled him in lies
Hastened his departure
As he crawled toward the cradle of extinction
A man without form or formula
Choking in the fumes of victory

Written by Nevada Kerr
18th January 2002.