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Shiny plastic zip up suits,
Backpack tanks, thick black boots,
No words, just death, hear it hiss,
Pull the trigger, never miss.

Two glass eyes reflect the sun,
On the ground where creatures run,
They want things clean, polished earth,
Bombs missed some, so they search.

A weeping man, pulled from his sleep,
out of his hole, onto his kness,
his head to feet, they grab his neck,
spray his face with the taste of death.

The work is done, they head on home,
forget the faces they left alone,
hands and toes, backs and heads,
above the mud, no words, just death.


















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The following comments are for "The Exterminators"
by ilichvladikov

Awesome: The Exterminators
Ilich,

This was killer. The rhythm was amazing. I saw a couple cases of being able to enhance that flow by removing an article in a line toward the end of the poem. The story was awesome, too. Loved it!

Lans

( Posted by: GibsonGirl [Member] On: March 17, 2006 )





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