Room Womb Tomb - Novel Veteran

A Wake thy mourning yawn verse
be mundane terse going vertical.
Decision to write or
urinate one’s day forward.
The sound into the toilet hole,
echoes thy releasing relieving answer.
But where too after that.

Where does the American dream
exist in a room womb tomb space
adrift breathing in solitary confinement
not receiving personal acknowledgement
snail, email cell phone correspondence
where invisible boa constrict cosmos walls

Still ness, so silent, it thundered aLit elocution
Inside thy soul’s insoles surf Lite contemplation
Outside full moon see shore radiant Lit reflection
Quiver consonant river vowel Literature compilation

Room womb tomb Veteran, Rip Van Winkle A Wake
To urinate and eat, then write upon American Fairy Tale
A Lone Veteran born America pawn, Draft Selective Service
Who Graduated into Vietnam Conflict Piece for Democracy.

Veteran Knight, bee Night Mare neigh of sorrow sought pillows
That plies dye knead to seek poet pleadings in American Dreams
Woven woke yolk joke PTSD enlistment with DD214 RIP wrinkled
Dye solution, lay horizontal breathing, American Dead Veteran Society.

Today RIPS A Wake Woke PTSD (Present Today Surviving Daily) Trauma
Drama that must urinate reality, ‘n eat humble Mulligan Stew concoction
Mime muted censured Chess Piece RIP domino, more Dead than Be A Life
Censored personal snail, email, cell phone Veteran testicular testament.

So “Impotent” To America, they must lay limp upon poet pleading prayers
Must eat to survive, then lay me down to sleep, upon living suicide soft sighs

America can you spare a rhythm rhyme, for thy soul needs to vent ‘n rant
Ream thee dye requiem, Thank You For Your Service Pied Piper platitude

Room womb tomb RIP Torn A Lone Veteran, Thank You For Your Service
GOD knows thee, has earned the Constitutional RIGHT to Vent and Rant hurt
Why dost those bone spurs, who did not serve, commanDETH over who did
Morticians, more than Politicians, who redefine, what Veterans fought for.