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Don’t Cheat Him at Cards

By Casey Collier

Terp erred only for himselfish wayed.
He toiledin faraway spots, in homelands where this business had grownup.
We called to him somename, or whether he was thereatall.
No armor for ol’ Terp.
He walksin like it’s onlyonce.
See if it ain’t foragingfor assassination.
Maybe concord with the localitariate.
No pushing for Terp.
He likes he canwear his homescarf correctly.
“We want to go,” says Terp.
Indeed, it smacks of easierthings than original sin.
That’s whatthey’ll put on him, ol’ Terp.
The violation.
They’ll hangit onhim like his scarf for himto wrap around his face.
Pommegranitrees don’tmake what the monsters do.
Arghandab Terp canbe trusted in everyway.
Not tobe confused with- although mostly of allofus, is Terp.
No guns for Terp, theshame ofit.
Just words for Terp, heknows how they’ll be met.
We follow incase, unless hesays, “wait.”
Sometimes Terp needsto bealone.
Don’t cheathim atcards. He ain’t toogood yet.

Casey A. Collier is an Active Duty military Servicemember, stationed out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina. He served for one year in Southern Afghanistan from 2009-2010, where he wrote poetry and short fiction. He is an avid fan of cooking, reading, and listening to music.

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