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Currahee, Men, Currahee

by Jon-Jacob F Deal

No sound rings out so stupid-sweet
In the Land of the Morning
(Cock)
Calm
As "mandatory fun";

Scads of Joes rubbing elbows
In a joint that's buzzing by order
And only fields this many bodies when
There's free swill to be had that night.

Giving sense to surreality,
I swore that I could smell them
Before we even cracked the door
Yet here among us there stand six--
Count 'em, six--

(Six women times three orifices each is eighteen,
Plus another twelve for the hands; hell, toss in six more
And give intermammary the ol' college try... 36.
Still not enough, but Basic Training taught me to share)


--Of the Lone Star State's finest;
Strap on your fucking ice skates, gentlemen,
It must be freezing over, 'cause
The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders
Have arrived in Hell.

Even the short ones are easy to spot,
Camera flashes going off,
Silent, mini arty simulators, and guys
Crowding around like sperm to the ovum;
I wonder absently how long they've been in-country,
And if it's possible to stay that perfect
When jet-lagged like a motherfucker.
I decide it isn't.

A pretty blonde thing
Alights on the barstool next to me--
Asks me questions,
Signs her photo.
My conversation's as limp as I am,
So dead-dull I can't even objectify her.

I smell perfume,
Suppose it must have been dabbed gingerly
Against the pulsing vein in her soft neck,
But don't imagine my teeth finding teasing purchase there;
Scan across her own mouth as she talks,
But can't imagine that honeyed tongue
Tracing circles on my swollen glans.

She cheers people for a living,
I kill them;
Somehow, we just don't connect,
With the minor exception of the fact
That she keeps kicking me for some reason,
And I still don't know if it was on purpose.

She smiles, I don't;
She talks, I don't;
Eventually, she leaves--
Hey, granite never has been a great conversationalist--
But a Joe sitting next to me makes his point well:
"We're not bad guys,
We're just mean-spirited."

Currahee, men.

Currahee.

12/29/2003

Posted on 12/29/2003
Copyright © 2024 Jon-Jacob F Deal

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