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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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ANTHONY LICCIONE dandelions it was truly a beautiful sight to see, as I lay on the ground looking up at the bright blue sky, the planes cutting through a downpour of jumpers, parachutes opening up like dandelions, hundreds of them airborne falling to earth from passing planes, others dying before touching ground, with no landing pad to catch their stemmed bodies, most of them landing and just running, running to where is never known. saw it in the war films all the time, but to be here with the snow melting against the sweat, someone’s blood on the mud of my boots, my back ripped open that I cant move, I’m talking to a solider next to me, a hole in his mouth and jaw half gone, who doesn’t respond hearing the bullets flying over me from magazines to fast for the speed of light, I want to close and fold it away tuck it in my back pocket like the playboy magazine, we all were gazing at in the bunks two days b4, someone is screaming mayday, mayday need some paramedics, as I hear more foreign tongues being exchanged, more screams draining away. I think back, away from this world, to my boys at home, ripping dead parachute balls from the summer grass, lifting it up to their lips and giving their biggest blow, as we watch the wind-borne seeds disperse into the sky, disperse and disappear into the summer blue. Anthony Liccione lives in Texas with his two children. His poems have appeared in several print and on-line journals, forthcoming in The Stray Branch, Foundling Review, Halfway Down the Stairs, Lucid Rhythms, Gutter Eloquence and Fantastic Horror. He is an author of four collections of poetry books. |
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© 2004-2010 Underground Voices |
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