rimbaud's soldier

and there's a white trail
a blaze of smoke
the womb of the birth of the sun
bursting in tremors of super sonic

there are fighter planes whirring across the skies.
I'm no soldier fighting the devil's paradise
i do your bidding sire,
here here Ai son of the soil
lie down and protect and toil

i lie sleepless at most mid nights
and never think about silent arabs and camels
and my childhood nightmares of my cut head being tied

where do i think of jet planes and rockets
but in dreams i never have
that i make
that i see but
none to stake

and might i be your distant twilight dream
white lilies 'parakeets and a dash of lime

and i am but a soldier
who's not in war
but i wait
with my gun
by the roadside inn
on some lonely,
lonesome,midnights.