The "Taps", for 'Nam-vets
(to the tune "Taps", repeated middle-phrase)
Duty Called
And We Went.
Never Doubting The Cause
We Just Went;
And we'll Never Come Home,
So Remember Your Men,
Who Were Lost And Alone,
And Who Still Bear Their Wound;
We're Your Sons Who Are Gone........
In Viet Nam.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That WALL
written with tears,
etched by our blood.
Black slit, ugly gash, oozing whore-hole!! : :
You see names; I hear cries;
you see stone; I see flak-jackets;
you feel cool granite; I remember cold sticky blood;
DON'T ASK ME TO COME SEE IT!!
Oh!, GOD, how can they TOUCH IT!!!
We paid and paid, and STILL pay!
More than any granite-price!!
It's just SO SAD what they did to us!
Today we seem men;
we were just boys then.
We stand and cry here
(some did
some didn't
some can't come yet.)
We look with hundred-year-old-stares.
How can we unremember?
When will it become forgettable?
Only when we are ALL gone.
I hope you never try to tell me
what color are the ripples
in an ocean of blood.
What do rain-drops really tase like
now that I am here to taste them,
and not THERE, where I had no choice.
Here I do the same as there:
one-step-at-a-time,
keep moving,
don't look
back.
Oh!, how I want it to be
like I was N E V E R THERE!!
Never come up behind me unless you make a lot of noise.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"It Is An Honor"
they told us.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
At night
it still settles over me
I hardly realize it
It doesn't seem like pain
It is a lot like grief
I did not feel it sweep
It did not creepily creep
I awake in the mornings
It is sitting there
cold, dull, sullen, dark, grinning
sitting, brooding, weighing my chest
its talons sunk deep
in the middle of my heart:
memory.
c 1970 trexx
Sound / smells of metals:
breech slamming in on hot brass!
bolt repeating Death! : :
Repetetivly screaming
Death!! Good-bye!! Good-bye!! Go die!!
I saw the tigers.
I knew their prey.
I saw them come
and carry men away.
I fed the tigers.
I can't forget.
They'll come