Saturday, November 11, 2017

` Hell, No, It's Not For The Glory!






Last Man

My best friend Steve is a Vietnam vet. Bless his heart, he never broached the subject, nor did I until I’d known him for a few years. He did share some odd tales about the war with me then.

A natural story teller, he was witty, sardonic, with some hilarious punchlines thrown in. And, quite often, disturbingly surreal. He’d won a medal for stealing a jeep once … it’s a long story, I couldn’t tell it like he could.

We have a last man's club of sorts; one bottle Johnny Walker Black, one pair clean socks, a pack of Winstons – everything a guy needs, stuffed into a re-gifted wine box.

Someday, one of us will get to piss on the other's grave.



Dragon's Breath
the forest alight in flame,
red, green, orange, black!
laughing, a ghost beckons,
beautiful and serene








Two Years Gone By


500,000 Iraqi Children Die


2 comments:

bandit said...


"60 cal from a helicopter mounted on a bungee cord, you'd shoot your own plane a lot!!"

"all the electronics went out once when we got hit - the pilots were screaming at me to get them powered up; I screamed back, "wtf, it's still flyin' isn't it?!'

"we always wondered who would be at the smoke when we picked up LURPS. we used different colored smoke for different maneuvers. yeah, but had somebody told the colors and they, waiting in the canopy, were a total surprise? "

the colonel looked over at the chain tied to the steering wheel and said, "just what the Hell were you doing out here anyway?"

bandit said...


I know what he was doin'. The same thing I'd be doin'! LOL!

And one of three or four people who think as fast as I do. We're only indecipherable cuz we're out there, we've got a goal, we know it's exceedingly Absurd, so what the Hell is the problem? Sorta like, uhhh ... Viva le Morte, Viva le Guerre, Viva le Sacre Mercenaire! No? (sigh) or, this. Yeah, 'til it ain't no more - just roll with it:::

Drop Kick Me, Jesus