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Carl Sandburg - Fight

RED drips from my chin where I have been eating.
Not all the blood, nowhere near all, is wiped off my mouth.

Clots of red mess my hair
And the tiger, the buffalo, know how.

I was a killer.
Yes, I am a killer.

I come from killing.
I go to more.
I drive red joy ahead of me from killing.
Red gluts and red hungers run in the smears and juices
of my inside bones:
The child cries for a suck mother and I cry for war.

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Added: Feb 4 2004 | Viewed: 1353 times | Comments and analysis of Fight by Carl Sandburg Comments (4)

Fight - Comments and Information

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 6. Fight
Volume: Chicago Poems
- War Poems (1914-1915)
Year: Published/Written in 1914
Poem of the Day: Jun 22 2008

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Comment 2 of 4, added on January 5th, 2012 at 1:01 AM.

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