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By Richard Wells
War. American as apple pie. GI — government issue. Your soul might belong to God, but your ass belongs to the US Army.
Hood, sweet young sad eyed GI
Stretched too thin for fuck you
just wants left alone
Rotated outta Nam cool your heels do your time worlds collide would collide no matter where no matter what — Germany
Wraith kid scared everybody death smudged looking for that far away
Could have dissolved like salt no energy to him occupied so little space hardly there
UCMJ got him
Count Cadence! Count:
Bring it on down:
You old men satisfied?
Made him a ghost
Sweet young sad eyed GI