The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner by Randall Jarrell

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 its 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.

by Randall Jarrell

Other poems by 'Randall Jarrell'

Hope

Losses

The Olive Garden

A Sick Child

Eighth Air Force

The Woman At The Washington Zoo

Cinderella

The Refugees

The Black Swan

90 North