He leans upon one elbow
and dreams of strategies
for assaulting the battlefield 
lying before him, white and flat,
like the steppes of Russia in winter.
The pencil quivers in anticipation,
then swoops down 
and cleaves land from sky
with one lean horizon line.
Bending to his task, 
he plots shell bursts 
that step across the untilled land
toward friendly forces
sheathed in superhero armor.
A few thin pencil strokes, 
and laser guns emerge 
from bionic elbows
and send streams of beams
that pierce enemy tanks with photon fury,
while in the sky,
missiles from choppers
chew up the fleeing foe.
The battle won, he leans back 
with pencil jutting from his jaw
like Patton's cigar on D-Day.

*     *     *
The author: Bill Britton enlisted in the Corps in 1958.
From P.I. to Cherry Point for Airborne R/O School, then to Quantico where he flew R4D-8s and AD-5s; crashed at Dyess AFB in R4D-8 17248. Discharged in 1962, operated a hardware store until 1987, then dug clams on Long Island for a living. After getting an M.A. in English, mixed clamming with freelance editing. Moved to Florida in 2004. Still editing P/T, motorcycling, and bitching about most things. Semper Fi.

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Playing War at the Kitchen Table