Joe, NPO

@juanlovitzz, , , , , ,
cloverleaving through the night
cleaving unto what’s right
seething, disbelieving:
they chickens
they goats
“don’t trust a man with a mustache”
said he
“
power, corrupts
“
they don’t kill the chickens
they eat themselves
“
neck, crack
“
bring yersel’ to heel in the bottom of the night
“
come to.
parade.
rest
“
Airborne refuses peace pipes and gulping exhausts
“
breathe,
soldier,
breathe
keep the dime
on the
sightpost
“
what’s out the tailpipe is in the mouthpipe
“
one down,
five up
“
wonders
“why not the Academy ring?””
wonders
“why not the Ranger Tab?”
“
sit one,
beg two
“
coughs up angles of coal
coughs up pockets of pitch
coughs down carcoids n keeloids
“
count cadence,
delay cadence,
 count cadence,
count!
“
dad burned a telephone pole
tinkerbell said
“
breathe,
soldier,
breathe
“
tinkerbell kissed soot
into the bellow-bull snouts of them irish boy scouts
“
sleep one, sweet prince
“
he fought them every hail mary
“
open,
one,
your mouth,
two
“
now
give me your money
paperboy
…
now
, say
, your
, one
, rosary
, two
, rosary
, three
“
splayed against the smokers’ tree
he got his pipes
he got his box
of canolis and cojones
every day is a rheumy horror
every day is a cough of coal
“
sit one
“
it is a puke of pitch
“
shake two
“
joe coughed up the creased wing of an oil-fouled bird.
he instructs the beardlesses
he counsels the cuntly-capped
in right angles
, courtlyship and
, collared shirts
on a Saturday
sets a dime on the muzzle break, says
“
shake soldier
, don’t
, shake
“
coaxes the callows in the codes of war
teaches the brightly towheads
to
“
hup
,two
,three
“
to
“
repeat
, after
, me
“
to
“
fiddle
, dee
, dee
“
to
“
please sir
, make me
, Infantry
“
Joe drowns yard dogs in the surf
counts the rosary
drives into the marine-grade sea
salty says
“
repeat
, after
, me
“
under fifty below when he couldn’t feel a toe
“
soldier, get outta that fartsack, stand your icy watch”
“
after jersey city, how could it be this hard?” (lather, peat, recompense)
in the beer-swill bar with the saw-dust girl, they broke his back
in halogene lights and chair leaned back:
“It’s our policy that you’re too old for the leadership track.”
married young so
he knows of other cults
of chickens, rats and feral dogs
after the hurricane the neighbors gigged their frogs and bled their hogs
there are ‘rrangements
nina 1
,
“
casarte
, bien
“
nina 2
,
“
marry
, a
, marine
“
novia 1
,
“
shut
, your
, yap
“
esposa 1
,
“
keep
, it
, clean
“
married young so
his chicken-cracking missus
he understands
[
rather
, wince
, repent
]
the large bed
the long days
the whiskey deck and that pig
of a bitch of a dog
the firestorm
“
in a
, #10
, can
“
nina dos el papa, nina una la mama
“
knit one
, bike two
“
he rides into bat country
mile after mile after cornstalk to the barrier sands
to the reefs and cataracts and falls
races the mosquitos
from the frog-gig swamps, and
every time that piss-warm ocean calls
it’s a raise of the hands
he rolls the throttle on
he knows they ginger Irish
don’t kill the chickens
they eat they selves
” lather
, rinse
, repeat
…
, after
, me
…
slap
, pull
, observe
, release
, tap
, shoot
discharge instructions read:
“
end
, evening
, nautical
, twilight
“

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