The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

Selected Poems (1955)

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.

Bombers. Selected Poems (1955)