Formaldehyde on fatigues
Green on this bald–headed league
—full of vigor, shorn like sheep—
That sweeps the dorm and soon sleeps .

Only to be awakened
By reveille earaching
The tortured troops to withstand
More demands :   crazy commands .

Marching to classes in file,
Tramping down the urge to smile,
But can’t check the teary dusk—
The eve brusque, full of male musk .

My pate scratches like boarhide .
Will this snowflake get outside
Unmarred by rusty wing nuts
With jackboot strut and crew cuts ?

The chevrons flit on rooftop,
Settle for the mission stop .
Whiskers are covered with rime—
Wintertime :   the snow sublime .