Danger

ˈdānjər

general headquarters

general headquarters 
lies too far in the rear to 
smell the abattoir

this queer sibilance 
this dread swarming menace of 
iron on the wing

these laughing heroes 
who know not the awful price 
of their victory

our hopeful souls went
marching to the fields of fate
in the slanting rain

this traffic is a 
demented video game 
with only one life

the coals at my feet 
burn less indignantly than 
the fear in my eyes

this matchless valor 
in bloody consecration  
of my shattered land

what is more lofty 
than for a hundred men to 
march forward to death

i live suspended
twisting between danger and
opportunity

this padded helmet
will serve well in my new role
as a projectile