Friday, September 20, 2013

4629. AT THE NAVY CAMP

AT THE NAVY CAMP
Henry the Wheedle said to Harry the Camp,
'want to do me before it's too late?' Just like that
the whole place fell apart. There wasn't any sense,
after that, to anything. Don't ask, don't tell sounded
like squealing on your brother for taking that last cookie.
-
They planted two pine trees for the kids who died on
that fence. Now I watch the tall, black guys slowly walking
past on their 30-minute lunches. They let them out for a
spell, I guess. Ibos, or Nigerians or Malawis or something  -
the really tall kind  -  black African basketball runners or the
type selling stuff on NYC streets. I never know from where.
-
This world's so strange now  -  men-to-men are as accepted as
margarine, and these big guys from other lands, well, now they're
normal too. Everything's a jumble, come together, gone as one.

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