Action (1943) from ISAR by Charisma Rat

Killed in Action

Fire, prerogative and host of saints,
The final refuge, seal of brotherhood,
Our ruthless mother gathers in her brood,
And cleanses it. The loving she acquaints
With greater love–her golden ones grown white
As flesh retreats and bone breaks through like dawn.
From his bare eyes and from his heart the fright.
At birds’ awakening we woke; he quickened me
With his quick presence, yet himself was depressed
By something unfulfilled in love, something
Communal, too vast for our one entity
To know. He sleeps at last, this final love expressed,
And I must sleep till the birds less madly sing.

- Doris Bailey, 1943

• Rock
• mersh
• punk
• Baltimore