Hollow Tin

Hollow Tin Tap tap! Like calloused fingers On a hollow tin, Like a snare drum Muffled, as if bodies Were stuffed within. Tap tap! On riddled wood And gloopy mud, A spit, a splat, A rat-a-tat-tat A gasp, a cringing thud. Tap tap! Slow yet rhythmic Like warm autumn rain, Hauntingly beautiful, Echoing like the silence Of comforting pain. Tap tap! The constant dripping Of crimson friends, "Over here, over here!" As one voice calls out Another one ends. Tap tap! On crispy khaki And hollow tin, Sculpting Tommy's face Into a grimace And a wry grin. Tap tap! Louder, a whistle, "Oh my god!.....this is it!" Tap tap! Another two bullets Hit.