Fucking Milosevic

Jennifer Mills

he broke glass in his hand trying not to laugh at the doctors and must have looked like a maniac cause they let him off the army

see the soldier at the green market wont even look at you he says nobody knows the things ive seen

when dad came home from the war he brought six new colour tvs and a mercenary i stayed up nights

now we steal from the dead for a living cause we learned nothing else

see the soldier in the waiting room waiting with kosovo eyes and smoke for breath cause it doesnt matter when you die only how

the gypsies gather trash and sell what they cant eat burn what they cant sell look at you

he says there are too many people here fucking milosevic

i come from that place where they sent all your nazis after the war and speculators hide out til its all blown over we are famous for our hospitality

he broke glass in his hand trying not to go the way of the rest of them
all gone now

only the certified ones are left standing

hands in their pockets and ears cocked like guns

This poem is taken from Total Cardboard issue 7, and remains under copyright. For more information see www.totalcardboard.com