This was written I think for MLK Day. It may seem a bit strange kind of poem to commemorate MLK. . . but the experience that inspired this poem was . . . well, a life changing event for me. We all have them, don't we? That moment where something happens that kind of changes your direction as a human being, or at the least, forces you to think about things that you never considered before. And those moments that have the ability to "wake us up" are usually small, tiny. No one notices that they even happen . . . except for the one who's experiencing it.
other unlucky motherfuckers at this airport . . .
There were squads of grunts, short timers,
on the blistering tarmac. Worn-out jungle utes,
un-bloused boots, raggedy-ass covers
on their not so stateside-regulation haircuts,
all of ‘em diddy-bopping towards that sweet,
jet airliner we just dog piled out of.
Them heading home, us headed in.
than the air outside swirling
through the metal slits
gagging us newbies . . .
and no fuckin’ weapons?
What the hell’s going on?”
I see, two black brother Marines
sprawled out in the red dirt next
to a 12X listening intently
to the broadcast crackling
out of a banged up portable radio:
Dumb-ass name for a Marine Base!
Almost as dumb-ass as flying into Vietnam
on a commercial jet . . .
got no fuckin’ flak jacket,
got no fuckin’ helmet,
but we can fuckin’ do that!
Woodie o1-19-15
* -Robert F. Kennedy, April 4, 1968
Dumb-ass
It
was hot, extremely hot. Vietnam fuckin’ hot.
Stepped
off the airplane with about forty-eight other unlucky motherfuckers at this airport . . .
There were squads of grunts, short timers,
on the blistering tarmac. Worn-out jungle utes,
un-bloused boots, raggedy-ass covers
on their not so stateside-regulation haircuts,
all of ‘em diddy-bopping towards that sweet,
jet airliner we just dog piled out of.
Them heading home, us headed in.
Fuckin’
Marine green cattle car!
Clouds
of road dust even hotter than the air outside swirling
through the metal slits
gagging us newbies . . .
“What the hell’s going on here?
Dead center of a war zone and no fuckin’ weapons?
What the hell’s going on?”
Staging
area, somewhere in Da Nang.
I
step off the transport . . . first thingI see, two black brother Marines
sprawled out in the red dirt next
to a 12X listening intently
to the broadcast crackling
out of a banged up portable radio:
* “I'm
only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because
I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs,
please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news
for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world;
and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight
in Memphis, Tennessee. . .”
I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs,
please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news
for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world;
and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight
in Memphis, Tennessee. . .”
I’m
looking for the convoy that’s gonna take me up North
to
someplace called Camp Carroll. Camp the fuckin’ Carroll.Dumb-ass name for a Marine Base!
Almost as dumb-ass as flying into Vietnam
on a commercial jet . . .
The
head stewardess freaking out over the intercom,
“Please depart the plane
in a speedy and orderly fashion.”
Sure,
we can do that!
Got
no fuckin’ weapons, got no fuckin’ flak jacket,
got no fuckin’ helmet,
but we can fuckin’ do that!
What
a dumb-ass stewardess.
What
a dumb-ass war.Woodie o1-19-15
* -Robert F. Kennedy, April 4, 1968
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