The Poetry Of.
Al Ferber......................................................................
Quiet On The Front
there is a tentative
cease fire
choosing purgatory
for the time being
over hell
the temporary lull in
the constant shelling
and gunfire
is almost soothing
almost hypnotic
in its deceiving quiet
but the troops are
still armed and ready
to engage in combat
with the simple sound
of a breaking twig
they are running low
on ammunition
almost as low as
the Russians
at Stalingrad did
how dumb was I
Ever Think
about it
there's only
so much
Sylvia Plath
a man
can take
in a woman
before he
turns Ted
Hughes and
writes
his Crow
Forced March
their pain is palpable
like biting into the
apple that hangs
in front of the horse
to lure him on
you can taste
the moisture
of their tears
toiled for a lifetime
dragged through
the jungle
of one endless
day to the next
7 to 3
3 to 11
11 to 7
the graveyard shift
the women toiling
for their children
the men toiling
for their wives
and children
the children toiling
for their teachers
all dreams crushed
under the wheel
of utility
and necessity
I picked up on
their unhappy faces
at a much
too early age
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