Iron

Guns,
 Long, steel guns,
 Pointed from the war ships
 In the name of the war god.
 Straight, shining, polished guns,
 Clambered over with jackies in white blouses,
 Glory of tan faces, tousled hair, white teeth,
 Laughing lithe jackies in white blouses,
 Sitting on the guns singing war songs, war chanties.

 Shovels,
 Broad, iron shovels,
 Scooping out oblong vaults,
 Loosening turf and leveling sod.

     I ask you
     To witness—
     The shovel is brother to the gun.

Published in Chicago Poems

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