They lined us up,
they shaved our heads,
they dressed us in olive drab,
they marched us until we
were ready to drop, and then
they marched us some more.
They fed us pork at every meal
though the food was barely distinguishable.
They marched us in the Texas sun,
and sat us in hot classrooms to learn
the Uniform Code of Military Justice,
then they marched us some more.
When we had forgotten what life
was like in the real world, when
we no longer though anything of marching
they smiled and told us, well,
now you are ready to go to war.
About the contributor: Louis Faber’s poems have appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Rattle, Cold Mountain Review, Borderlands: the Texas Poetry Review, Midnight Mind, Pearl, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, among many others, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. A book of poetry, The Right to Depart, was published by Plain View Press.
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