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Sep 2012
Mom what are these snails,
with blood and sweat trails?
lumbering mountians, hauling heavy shells,
jumping in beer--killing themselves,
Why do they still patrol
the garden flag poles,
writhing in pain,
salt in flesh--burning holes,
Mother, the neighbors have no flag,
but they have a saltshaker to wave?
crushed shell--only way they listen to them,
rejoicing--at salted skin--wetly glistening.

But I feel I must do the same,
Well before the recruiter came,
I know what he sells,
The salty brimstone of hell,
But these Blood Sweat Snails in the dirt,
Jumping on grenades,
Absorbing brimstone bursts.
Truly are the salt of the Earth.
Keith Joseph Collard
Written by
Keith Joseph Collard  37/M/Dedham, MA
(37/M/Dedham, MA)   
2.2k
   Taru M and ---
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