Sandburg

Fight — Carl Sandburg

Red drips from my chin where I have been eat­ing.
Not all the blood, nowhere near all, is wiped off my mouth.
Clots of red mess my hair And the tiger, the buf­falo, know how.
I was a killer. Yes, I am a killer.
I come from killing. I go to more. I drive red joy ahead of me from killing. Red gluts and red hungers run in the smears and juices of my in­side bones: The child cries for a suck mother and I cry for war.

3 thoughts on “Sandburg

  1. I can’t tell if it’s good or not be­cause all I could think of af­ter the first line was the story where Janusz eats his tongue.

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