Soldier Boy


Your face reeks

Of fear and child

-like innocence

Your stale ramparts

Boot-trodden blood



A beast are we


Soldier boy


You at head

Breathe fire

Coughing black

Teeth of silver

Me at tail

Trails of mud

And tears


Myth is our fur


You kill in hopes

to save


Soldier boy


And I save

Your killings

In news

Paper clippings


Miles Stearns is a twenty-something writer hailing from the west coast and currently passing time in Oklahoma. There he is learning about humidity and cicadas. He feeds them bits of his writing and they take these rags to the grass and trees and eat them noisily all day long. Find him at