I forget what grade but the English teacher said we would do a segment on poetry. We are thinking roses are red, violets are blue.
Instead he leads with 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 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.
Randall Jarrell
The whole class was mortified when we realized what this was about. The teacher had a big grin on his face.
Thank you Vets
Wow, that must have been something. What a moment. It clearly made a deep impression on you.