Stop kicking so hard, Tony, and smell
The depleted uranium blossoming
In your chocolate-chip-fatigues soul.
Stop exacting grins at gunpoint, hate
And die at the same time, your dick
Might just bleed tonight, to the tune
Of your daddy’s seething. You let
That monster out, shook its hand,
Now go home.
[in response to "Oz," father of US Army paratrooper Tony Erskine, stationed in Iraq.]