—The Eclectic Muse, Volume 16, Christmas 2010, page 36
When the watchman fails to blow his horn
and the sword has cut through someone’s skin
then revenge will fall upon the slayer
but the watchman is the one to blame.*
I dropped my faith when Father died
and bet away my hard-earned corn.
My shine gets drunk, my knuckles cut
when the watchman fails to blow his horn.
My buddy died while in a brawl
so I went to church and was born again.
A boy gets changed by a preacher’s tune
and the sword has cut through someone’s skin.
My duty calls me to the front,
where Christ is peace within despair.
If Ezekiel has taught me well
then revenge will fall upon the slayer.
At Argonne Germans dropped us all,
but God spared me to end the game.
I picked them off as they called their Lord
but the watchman is the one to blame.
*Ezekiel 33:6, translated by poet
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