Two poems that I really enjoyed were The Summer of Crawling and Spring in Julala. The summer of crawling reminds me of a time I was in basic training also crawling. Me and the rest of my platoon were crawling across a gravel pit that was about 50 meters across with rocks like razor blades. The Drill Sergeant much like in Martins’s poem was screaming and popping smoke grenades and yelling that if we could not crawl across this pit in the States we were sure to die down range. I also remember while I was crawling across the Earth seeing a clover and I studied it much like Martin studied his dandelion and was promptly kicked in the head for stopping to look at the one piece of green I found in this pit of gray rocks which were covered in the blood of my and fellow soldiers knees and elbows.
The other poem Spring in Julala reminded me of a young Afghani boy who used to try and sell us everything and anything. He once stole a pen out of my buddies pocket and tried to sell it back to him, which turned out to be a poor choice on his part cause he caught a quick jab to the stomach for his efforts. Also because the area I was in there was also a “new bomb” except for for us it was not each week it was each day sometimes 2-3 a day.
And as for Martin’s writing style I much prefer Brian Turners poetry to his so far (since we’ve only read half the book). Turner has more of a grit to his poetry, it is darker more real to me. Though Martin's poetry was just as relatable for me.
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