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The like, the love, of Private Lynch
who from her native (US) Palestine
was sucked into the war machine,
being unemployed, feeling the pinch
financially, the guarantee
that army life provided of
a future, the smooth with the rough
taken, the iron warranty
of wages, with due respect,
she a cell of an iron fist,
spotted somewhere in a long list,
each a payee, you would expect
a certain inflexible mode
commanded, found her in fatigues,
the precise place, over the leagues
of desert sand, the truck she rode
ambushed, she bravely stood her ground,
injuries sustained, she fell,
was taken prisoner, they would tell
the torments that she suffered, found,
to safety whisked, her face was seen,
the world that pays Madonna due,
the perky private was the cue
to great elation, on the screen
brought home the sentiment that war
induces, of humanity
subliming the brutality
of conflict; and that hope before
she joined the army, signed her name,
and joined the payroll of the same.
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