Thursday, June 16, 2016

8298. BATTLING THE BEETLE-BUG

BATTLING THE
BEETLE-BUG
And where are you now, Swanson?
Nosing around in some pitiful swamp,
some Pilgrim's Progress Slough of Despond
and still thinking there's really a way out?
I really envy you your tattooed stripes.
Well anyway. Here's the flag that was
up your ass, and all the times you
wiped your face, I was laughing
with the Corporal. What was his
name, I now forget. Riddlebaeck,
or beck or back or bottom. Jeepers,
what a name to have to wear on the
name strip on the uniform front.
He's dead, you know; yep, hit by
a car on Route 29. Riding his stupid
bicycle like some 14-year old kid.
Puking Pleiku, Danang and even
those Highlands  - and he gets hit
on a bike when he's 61. After three
tours of duty his sister warned him
not to do. What a jerk for the losing,
and forever 21. I saw her photo once,
not bad. And, anyway, also, here's the
shield that marshall guy sent me in
the mail, except he said it should
really go to you but he didn't know
who you were or where you lived.
I could have kept it, and said that
we'd lost touch, but I really didn't
want the damned thing for
myself either. So, Regards,
Bob 'Shiny Butt' Willis.

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