Free falling five feet,

M-16 and grenade

outstretched as he descends

into the landmine’s

fragmented soul,

he becomes mythical,

a hero to be eulogized

by those he hates.

I remember him in 1963

getting coldcocked

by a stringbean man

at the bar of the Torch Club,

victim of his problematical mouth.

Despite that and the incident

when he yanked a ballcap

down Coach Moore’s porcine face,

they say he exited the chopper

screaming.

Contents / Next Poem / Published Works