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by Fush Moss

March 12, 2017

Like untamed, ravenous beasts attacking

a spindly-legged, weak, helpless gazelle,

the bullets tore through their flesh bushwhacking

organs, muscles, and tendons all to hell.

Like all the kings horses and the kings men,

our job was to patch humpty dumpty up

for transport, dodging bullets now and then,

never knowing how the war...

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