Army Man's Sonnet
(c) Salome Wilde
Johnny got a hundred just like me,
Frozen in a pose to play our parts,
An army of green plastic fantasy,
To play our willing role in killing arts.
I always saw myself as one of many,
Nothing special when he gripped me tight,
Then the toybox, good a life as any,
’Til I met his G.I. Joe one night.
Who’d have thought I’d face such humbling acts,
Grinding up against his bulging gun,
But as a soldier I report the facts:
It felt so good to be Joe’s chosen one.
Now other soldiers’ fight in wartoy hell,
I live in guilty peace: Don’t ask, don’t tell.