Nancy L. Meek


He will eat and sleep the enemy,
to become just like them, yet not:
survival dependent on his ability
to tie the noose he can’t unknot.

It’s not an endeavor for the twink,
to pretend to be inside their head,
immerse one’s self in how they think,
then rise the virgin from their bed.

Such is reserved for a war machine,
the Marine who can play their game,
rip their heads off as they scream,
then pray for peace in Jesus’ name.