The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner in  General   

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.

By Randall Jarrell

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Other poems by Randall Jarrell:

• 90 North
• A Country Life
• A Sick Child
• Children Selecting Books In A Library
• Gunner
• Hope
• Losses
• Mail Call
• The Black Swan
• The Breath Of Night
• The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner
• The Elementary Scene
• The House In The Woods
• The Olive Garden
• The Orient Express
• The Player Piano
• The Refugees
• The Woman At The Washington Zoo
• Well Water