in the shadows
When you are making your Memorial Day plans, consider; the Day is not just about barbecue and beer:
We started out as boys of prey
believing what we'd learned,
some not even twenty
mostly poor with nothing earned,
others born to plenty
from worlds I wished I never knew;
obscenities the common glue
that held our worlds together
as we'd learned to stay alive.
We hated everything about the place,
crud that stuck eyelids together,
newsies, amateurish boorish fools
buffoons with cameras,
tape recorder spools, whiskey up the ass,
white skin round eyed nurses only sleeping with the brass.
I had it easy
making ends meet on common ground
in the jungle with the bloods,
they hated all the snowflakes
but I hated everyone,
we started young and frightened
using ordnance like toys;
some were bagged up early flying home to flowers,
lucky ones were tagged;
all were bits and pieces
returned to tears and empty joys.
The rest of us stopped being boys
a tour or two ago,
tucked our fears into our dreams and didn't really sleep.
Nightmares came like boom-boom girls
loud with lots of flash.
I grew to be something else between human and a man
who'd lost the fear of dying on a blood trail in the bush,
later I replaced it with fear of going home;
even that got washed away until where I was
was all I'd ever known.
We learned it don't mean nothin'
to get by the best you can,
watch the ghosts come at you
and sometimes let them pass,
check the tracer colors
red could be OK
but green means someone's zeroed on your ass.
I don't make friends;
they always die and I hate them when they do.
Pass the shotgun here my man
we're back alive again;
play the music loud and clear
so I might hear it above the ringing in my ears.
Put a good edge on your blades.
Wake up Doc,
lets build a fire,
I feel like fishing with grenades.
©2003, 2009, 2013, 2017 by icebox