At the driveway helm
We are concrete pontiffs of war tales
Thanking them like Jesus
For standing up to the force
Of lead and copper ballistics
744 metres per second
Piercing collective skin
On crosses they hang us
Dissing the myth
In the dark we wait for
Someone to tell us how to behave
And the hot wet shadows of home
Wake us in trenches
Of race hate, of capital empire
Of dysentery and gasses
Then lest we forgot to lean
On the Hi-Lux
The Cerato hatch
The Hyundi Ranger
They died for the price of 4% discounted fuel
For RAC members
They sacrificed like Gods only son
For sins transgressed in 2020
As the suns rise on Anzac Terrace
Gallipoli Crescent
We salute dumbstruck at the isolating red dawn
To those that stood in heaving lines
At the barbed wire and blood
And those we send still
And the sun rises like a virus
Gallipoli Crescent 2020
Submitted by antipoet on Sat, 25/04/2020 - 08:17