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Poetry || SubmissionsPlaying Soldier By Thomas D. ReynoldsRusty cansdied first, nearly drowning in the current before we picked them off. The oak leaf was tough, taking two hits and spinning twice before breaking apart. The cracked whisky bottle acted the coward, shattering on impact before Billy could fire. The Coca-Cola bottle was thin and wiry and put up some fight. Crazy Horse on the run. Billy tracked it around the bend of the creek, over the falls and through the foam. As it sped over the dam and made a last leap, Billy plugged it good and it surrendered. Back at the front, the styrofoam cooler listed like a battleship. And I bombed away till I got tired. Then Billy took over, who said I was soft like a sniveling sister and pushed me onto the rocks. Billy kept firing, bullets edging it onto the bank, until it spun onto the sand. Clutching the gun, Billy called me girl and walked in darkness toward the lights of town. Thomas D. Reynolds teaches at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, Kansas. His writing appears in many publications, including Ariga: Journey and other poems and Photograph of the soldier Today's Situation
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