The Corpses Crawl Upward

The corpses crawl upward from human soup
of bone and blood, of gristle and of gore;
the flag, see how it waves, it falters, droops
as the mass of death heaves forward once more.

Men fire blind through the sulfurous smoke.
Death flies fast; it is indiscriminate.
Hundreds more fall now at a single stroke,
leaving few alive, wounded, impotent.

They plunge their arms deep into the sludge
to pull up rifle, charge the hill again,
while the hometown pastor, priest and judge
lead the faithful in state approved, “Amen.”