Tony Bush Poet Rhyme

'nam

Went the day well once purveyors of love,
then welcomed to hell like another dead shell,
saw the mountains and crags and the bodies in bags,
whilst the grunts ran like rats with no wisdom to tell.

The platoon line descent to the lily-white breast,
for to smoke in the shade, more fresh meat for the blade,
for each khaki-clad ghoul with his butchery tool,
whilst the grunts ran like rats as though never afraid.

Burned their flesh well, the deplorable scum,
bringing napalm and knife and an ending to life,
for the flesh-eating thing made of sinew and string,
whilst the grunts ran like rats as death became rife.

How the fetish expands in the poisonous blood,
then welcomed the pain as it pumped to the brain
of the B-movie ham, heinous spirit of ‘Nam,
whilst the grunts ran like rats and the trees went insane.

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