“Death of a ball turret gunner”
From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from the dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.
On the 11th minute of the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month or ever, lest we forget.
Thanks Del passing this along today.